Well, space cadets … we did it. We survived another summer. The boardwalk fried our skin, the vodka cranberries fried our livers, and the drag shows fried whatever brain cells we had left. But wasn’t it delicious?
When I started writing this column, I wanted to celebrate queer life in our little corner of sand and saltwater – to spotlight our drag, our businesses, our messiness, and our magic. What I didn’t expect was how much it would come to feel like a diary, a love letter, and occasionally a very loud voice.
TO THE LOCALS WHO SHOW UP
Thank you for filling the bars, tipping the queens, and keeping the beach loud and proud all summer long. You proved again that drag belongs on every street corner, every stage, and occasionally in the middle of Goolee’s breakfast rush.
TO MY FELLOW PERFORMERS
You are the haunted heartbeat of this town. Your wigs defy gravity, your lashes defy reason, and your talents defy explanation. I’ve been honored to share stages, dressing rooms, and way too much setting spray with you.
TO YOU, MY READERS
You’ve let me haunt your Friday mornings with camp, glitter-soaked nonsense, and the occasional plea to support local drag. Thank you for laughing with me, being bold with me, and sticking around even when I got a little … unhinged.
This column was never about me. It was about us. About Rehoboth and Ocean City. About Freddie’s, the Purple Parrot, Clear Space, La Di Da, Somewhere, and every brave little stage that lets us turn a night out into a memory.
SO HERE’S THE FINAL SAY OF THE SEASON:
- Keep tipping your entertainers.
- Keep shopping small and queer.
- Keep Baltimore Avenue glowing.
- And most importantly, keep it weird.
I’ll be back, like Spirit Halloween. Here one day, gone the next, but never really gone. You can find me in the off-season at Facebook: Kadet Kelly and Instagram: @_kadetkelly, where the chaos flows year-round. And while you’re at it, follow and obsess over my favorites: Magnolia Applebottom and Liz at The Breakroom — two icons making sure the party never sleeps.
