The Official Michael Kuhl Website

If you do Vegas, you are required by law to go to the Liberace museum. Last time I was there, which was about 15 years ago, it was the most unintentionally hysterical place on the planet. At the time it was in a strip mall, and housed at least half of the sequins in the city.

It was also full of little blue haired ladies who seemed to think it was a house of God, and shot daggers out of their eyes at anyone who offhandedly voiced the fact that the man was an enormous homosexual. Which I did at every possible opportunity, in every possible variation, despite my wife’s halfhearted attempts to make me stop.

Apparently nobody had dared say things like, “Don’t the red, white and blue sequined hot pants look a bit…I dunno…gay?” or “Holy crap! The sequin encrusted VW Bug is the ultimate accessory for the well appointed queen.”

We were very nearly asked to leave, but I think the employees were relieved to have the truth out in the open. It’s hard to keep a secret like that in the face of such overwhelming evidence.

October 18, 2010 Update

Yesterday, without ceremony, the Liberace Museum closed. They simply had no more money.

I enjoyed the museum. It’s cheese factor was unrivaled. But this is also a sad end to an era.

The thing is, he was an incredible showman and a brilliant pianist. Anybody who bought a ticket to a Liberace show got their money’s worth, and more.

I had always hoped to go back there. It was a truly wonderful piece of Vegas history.

When I was young I looked for ways to annoy my parents. My mother particularly. It didn’t take me long to latch on to Richard Pryor.

Today Richard Pryor died, and I am more affected than I thought I would be. It’s not that I am unaware that my heroes are slowly dwindling away, I just hate when reality rubs that inevitability in my face like this. Part of my ongoing battle with reality that will only worsen with time.

Richard had been dealing with multiple sclerosis for many years, and had been out of the public eye. Today, when I told some friends about it they answered with the classic, “I thought he died years ago.” I didn’t want to hear that.

Pryor was an open wound. Screamingly funny, and always brutally forthright about himself and the world he lived in. Every flaw he had was laid bare on stage. Take note, young comics. Particularly his later stuff. Comedy walks hand in hand with honesty.

So off you go Richard. I can’t thank you enough for what you taught me.

Say hi to Lenny Bruce for me.

Shit.