I’d met many many drag performers and illusionists yet it was Chelsea who made the biggest impression. Everyone loved to hate her: for a seasoned pro that is how you know you’ve made it.

How then to start my impressions? It was a dark and stormy night…

It was a dark night when the poetess April Hoskins and I arrived after the clubs at a V.I.P. after-party on Mill Street---the House of Del Ray. Things were stormy when we arrived, a gay rumble in the powder puff jungle. Someone was drunk (who wasn’t?), words were shouted and a body shoved.

A glitter bedecked April got into the way and was accidentally shoved off the porch into the drive.

“Look what you’ve done!” Chelsea screamed helping April up, dusting her off, followed by a kindly: “Are you all right dear?”

She was and the party continued on…

I thought then as I do now: it takes a strong man to stand in high heels much less sequins and feathers.  Chelsea was strong.

  After showing promise at the 2000 Closet Ball Pageant at Brothers Beta Club I was a V.I.P.--- my ego matching my hair.

I was a cabaret star on the rise and Chelsea Del Ray lost little time in coaching me on makeup and tips, the art of powder and tricks.  Knowing my undying love for Madonna she sealed our friendship one night soon after at The Zoo Bar.

“With a dedication to James Schwartz, please welcome to the stage Miss Chelsea Del Ray.”

Clad in a black cloak and hood Chelsea performed a dazzling “Live to Tell.”

April and I practically moved into the House of Del Ray—brilliant times. I learned at Chelsea’s knee the art of bitchiness:

Some Queen: I’m half black and half Chinese

Chelsea: Oh! So, sweetie…do you mix your rice with your collards?

I also learned a diva is a diva.

Chelsea and I both hailed from Sturgis, MI. but I had a lot to learn about diva behavior.

When I wrote a humor essay on the Closet Ball for Brothers’ zine “A Nite Out” I decided to follow up the essay with a portrait on Chelsea. I wrote a draft, summing her up as “formidable” and innocently mentioning this to my subject.

“Formidable?” Chelsea looked horrified “That means old!”

I informed her it meant respected, slightly feared.

“It means old” Chelsea stomped off in search of a dictionary.

A dictionary was found, my definition correct.

“Well all the queens will THINK it means old…change it!”

Now that my dears is a diva.

The word legendary was substituted but the essay was ultimately never published.

 Chelsea: she’s performed coast to coast, in National pageants and even done the talk show circuit. The word legendary is an apt one.