one of the reasons Cher has enjoyed such a long, successful career hinges on her ability to roll with the times, change with the times, you know, reinvent herself whenever it was time to do it.”
“That’s it,” Charlie said, “and her self-deprecating sense of humor. She had perfect timing, and speaking of timing, it’s time for my drama lesson.”
“I’m coming with you,” Suzanne said. “You need supervision. Let’s lay this whole concept on the coach and see where it goes.”
“Excellent idea,” Charlie said. “See y’all later.”
They left and I turned to Momma. I had questions, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted the answers.
“I think we should use this time to examine the lyrics of Cher’s top ten greatest hit songs and change them to be Char’s lyrics,” Momma said.
“That’s a stroke of brilliance, but while we have this time alone, would you like to tell me what the hell is going on between you and Suzanne?”
“Baby girl? I’m taking a walk on the wild side!” Momma was beaming from head to toe. “I’m breaking loose from all those rules and regulations and expectations. I’m a liberated woman!”
I wanted to tell her she’d done all that years ago. I wanted to say, maybe we should think this through a little better. I wasn’t convinced that Suzanne’s intentions were sincere. I didn’t even know what Suzanne’s real name was. And I wasn’t sure if Momma had a goal in mind, in terms of Suzanne. But I neither said nor asked any of those things.
Instead I said, “Momma? I’m with you, girl!”
For the next few days, while Momma sewed hippie vests and bell-bottoms, we turned Cher’s songs into Char’s music. “Bang Bang” became “Dang Dang.” “I Got You Babe” became “I’ve Got Your Babe.” “The Beat Goes On” became “The Cheat Goes On.” “Baby Don’t Go” became “Baby Please Go.” We did this until we had enough material for thirty minutes onstage. The music was interjected with monologues about what it was like to live in Cher’s shadow and all the things Cher did that were never supposed to be revealed. It was a hilarious act worthy of any small club, straight or otherwise.
Charlie worked with his coach every day, until he could recite his monologue without cue cards. Charlie was becoming so much more than a female impersonator. Charlie was a star. Not a megastar, not an icon. Not yet. But a budding star. You could smell success all around him. All he had needed was guidance and encouragement. Charlie was going places, and all of us were brimming with excitement to see where it would lead. And his confidence was growing.
Charlie had become Char. We wanted her to live in character all the time so that it would become second nature to her. And she did.
“The change in Charlie is incredible,” Momma said.
“Char is a goddess,” Suzanne said.
“Suzanne? Baby doll? That might be slightly overstating things,” Momma said.
“Bee, baby? She’s gonna be a goddess if it’s the last thing I ever do,” Suzanne said.
“Listen! I’m on the team, okay?”
While Momma sewed up a blue streak, and Suzanne and I reworked lyrics, Char and her drama coach cruised the bars and clubs and made tons of phone calls, on a mission to find out when there would be good opportunities for her to audition. Finally, they came up with a plan. Char’s first appearance would be in a club where many new artists tried out their acts. A date was set. A few solid and reputable booking agents were invited to be in the audience without Char’s knowledge.
“I don’t want her to have any more anxiety than she’s already got,” Suzanne said.
“Good call,” I said.
Suzanne suggested that when Charlie was dressed as Char, we should use feminine pronouns and that seemed right to me and to Momma. And now that she was Char all the time, she was she all the time.
The day before her showcase I said to Char, “Okay, you have to do your nails. And that includes your feet.”
“I’ve never worn nail polish,” Char said.
“I don’t know how you missed it, but now you’re going to, so let’s go.”
“I’m nervous,” Char said when we were in pedicure chairs in the salon Suzanne sent us to.
“Me, too,” I said. “But you know what? You’re going to be okay.”
“Easy for you to say,” she said.
“Look, I’ve thought about this. If the show goes well and an agent appears to book you a pile of gigs? Great! If an agent never