Leslie Jordan Dead at 67 Made Us Gays Believe in Our Futures

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How could Leslie Jordan have ever been closeted? Just look at him. Just listen to him. If he was ever in the closet, it’s the same closet that Liberace and Paul Lynde hung out in the ’60s and ’70s — a closet with no door and a bright, flashing, neon sign above the entrance that says, “LE CLOSÉT.” What I’m getting at is that, in the gut punch of emotions that pummel my brain after learning the news that I can’t even bring myself to type out, the only solace I can find is this: thank god Leslie Jordan was gay, out, and publicly proud for literally as long as I can remember.

There are going to be plenty of pieces about Leslie Jordan’s work. That can be other sites, other writers, or other pieces. I can only think of what Leslie Jordan feels like to me, specifically to me, and pray that there is universality in the specificity. Because for me, Leslie Jordan felt like me — an idealized version of myself out there in the world, living his best damn gay life. He was the very, very rare instance of a gay man who was allowed to age in public, allowed to keep his livelihood and life when so, so, so many of his queer siblings were taken far too soon.

This is why it’s so important that Leslie Jordan was so out, so gay, so pink and purple, and also so very much a man in his 60s. Just by being himself, all filthy wit and ebullient charm draped in a sport coat made of a fabric that you just know only has sex with other fabrics of the same gender, Leslie Jordan spent decades as literally living proof that there is a fabulous future for gay men… and for me.

I’m short, gay, and from Tennessee. I have to imagine that Leslie Jordan and I were geographically two hours away for a whole lotta time. We may have both been in Chattanooga at the same time! I know where he comes from because it’s where I come from — and Leslie Jordan never hid where he came from, likely because he couldn’t. That Tennessee twang was unmistakable, something he couldn’t — or maybe just wouldn’t — shake for any role he took. And lordy, did Leslie Jordan take on roles.

COOL KIDS: Leslie Jordan.

Photo: Fox

 

 

I remember him popping up everywhere throughout my sitcom-obsessed childhood. There he was on Hearts Afire, Coach, Wings, Caroline in the City, Dharma, and Greg, this tiny southern spitfire with a drawl and a distinctive twinkle in his eye and spring in his step. Even when playing characters who weren’t gay, Leslie Jordan was always playing gay, y’know? To think about that, the bravery to be unapologetically yourself, to know that you kinda have to be yourself no matter what because it’s really hard to pass, I can’t imagine it. It’s bravery my gay forefathers had to find for themselves, and thank god Leslie Jordan found it — and thank god Leslie Jordan lived long enough to share that bravery with the world and with my generation (and the generations following me).

With a dearth of gay role models to look up to when I was really confused and questioning, thank god I had Leslie Jordan live on my television — a sterling example of what it means to be southern and guh-guh-guh-gay. I see him and I see myself. There I am posing with beefcakes in speedos at a drag queen motel in Palm Springs. There I am, teaching drag queens a third my age how to land a punchline. There I am, performing in drag as Miss Baby Wipes. There I am, doing a meandering and endearing Insta live in the thick of the pandemic that always starts with “well… shit.” There I am there I am, there I am…

So where am I now without the possibility of seeing Leslie Jordan on TV again? I’m not ready to be my own Leslie Jordan. But Leslie Jordan was brave enough to be himself, and love and success, and acclaim came to him. I’ve had life lessons — okay, filthy life lessons involving lots of innuendoes — from a gay icon who was proudly a gay icon. He did not die in the closet. Leslie Jordan may have been a short king, but his personality — and now his legacy — was too tall to hide.

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