Saturday Night Live just celebrated its fortieth year of laughter and silliness. I was in college when it started, not an era when I had much time for television, still, I remember one weekend my roommate brought a friend’s TV to our dorm room. We turned it on that Saturday night and I saw the silliest show ever, though I’ve never been able to recall its name. What I do remember is that every few minutes, a lady in a dark trench coat appeared, singing a song about what were considered psychiatric disorders at the time.

I’m in love with a transvestite, although I knew it couldn’t last….

I’m in love with a sadomasochist….

There were others, too many to remember.

Weird, I know. But funny. So I watched the SNL celebration hoping for any mention.

Not a word.

I googled, I’m in love with a transvestite, hoping to discover if the show was the source of my memory.


Only now George is convinced that the computer gods (or whomever monitors our use of technology) believe I’m not only in love with a transvestite, but have been sharing clothes with him for thirty years.

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