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Bambi Lake is the strongest woman I have ever met. She is a fighter, a survivor, a 6-foot legend with a towering presence. All it takes is one look into her eyes, and you get it and more. It means whatever Bambi is in the moment, fleeting or enduring. Bambi Lake is a chanteuse who sprung out of the Cockettes, the radical, gay, hippie performance troupe, and the Angels of Light, the free-theater child of the Cockettes. Off and on, for nearly 50 years, she has performed in San Francisco at the biggest, smallest, cleanest, and dirtiest clubs. When I asked her what her greatest talent is she said, "making people cry." ​She is sculpted by those who glance at her, finely chiseled by her music, poetry, and mystery. Forever a pioneer, she paved the way for transgender women, women who would normally be forced to succumb to the internal isolation outsiders can’t describe. The same isolation visionaries overcome to attain their status. When I was 18 years old, I read Bambi’s book, The Unsinkable Bambi Lake, and knew that I had to find her. I searched and searched and searched. In my quest, when I mentioned her name to people, I would hear gasps and, often, be asked to leave.

Bambi Lake

One day that same year, I found her on the street. I had her book in my backpack. Midnight the next year, in 2010, I saw Bambi at Carl’s Jr. She had a home, and she was sober. ​Poetry spilled out of her midnight coffee, "There is a whole world of beautiful people under the beautiful American Dream.” To me, she is one of the great, unsung San Francisco street poets and performers. She had overcome it all, homelessness, drug addiction, a life day by day if not minute to minute. ​The rumors that cloak her legacy are not always true, but they helped build it. One time when I was walking around with her, someone stopped us on the street and exclaimed, “I found Bambi Lake! I can’t wait to tell my wife.” Bambi spends most of her days alone. She has always been alone. She tells me that she should be traveling to Europe, performing all around the world. It should be her. ​I tell her that without her, so many trans people wouldn’t be able to perform. She was too much, too out there, too early to have the life she longs for. She pounded the pavement, and, to this day, her songs are performed worldwide. Like her hero, Joni Mitchell, said, “The reasons artists live to be quite old is because they are children… that never put their crayons away.” She is forever chasing fame in a circle outlined by crayons. Since she started performing again a few years ago, she has consistently sold out two hundred people theaters. Sometimes you meet someone, and they stay with you. You see them where they aren’t and hear them in silence. Bambi Lake is one of those people.

Excerpt from Bambi Lake’s “Golden Age of Hustlers” In San Francisco long ago, I made my living hooking On Polk Street, at the old Black Rose, my eyes were always looking For some dumb man to pay my rent and some young man to love me With so many Heaven sent, I thank the stars above me. Sticks and stones can break my bones, but names can never hurt me
 The queens and the hustlers of the red light zone never did desert me
… I saw the best bodies of my generation Sold, bartered and destroyed by drugs and prostitution
 Pretty queens on the corners and midnight cowboys in the doorway
... Golden girls and boys all must like chimney sweepers come to dust
 It’s hard to find someone you can trust amidst the rhinestones and the rust… Prettiest boy I ever saw was San Jose Johnny the Libra They don’t make them like that anymore, a baby-faced gentleman outlaw
… Sticks and stones can break my bones but names can never hurt me The queens and the hustlers of the red light zone never did desert me… In the olden days, the Golden Age of Hustlers...


“The name Bambi means leave me alone. My name, Bambi, was kind of like a don't hurt me name and protective.

Bambi Lake

I guess my greatest talent when I perform is making people cry. I don’t know exactly why. It’s usually my song “Golden Age of Hustlers.”

There are certain singers that are just better at sad songs. I spent a lot of time learning how to sing. I’m doing little things that people don’t realize. I have a lot of technique. I believe in the power of the voice. I don’t have a rock ‘n roll voice, I have a Broadway voice. My voice is a velvety watery sound that draws people in. All of a sudden, I can get very, very loud or all of a sudden very, very soft. It’s manipulative. When you study voice, you learn how to do a lot of vocal tricks. My talent, well, I'm stuck there. It feels unnatural talking about how good I am. I can't really. I have been trying to define San Jose Johnny the Libra for a while. He was a real person and if he would only show himself it would be great. He ended up moving to Texas to be a fisherman. He was simple and an enigma. He was an Okie with the cutest, butch way of talking. He lost all his teeth from doing drugs, and he was a master thief. He had grown up in jail. He didn’t have the slightest bit of menace to him. We met at a time when we both couldn’t judge each other. He knew what a queen was and how to respect a queen. He didn’t turn tricks. He never looked at anyone else or at other girls. He only looked at me. We lived in a cheap motel room and listened to classical music at night. We made love. He was in love with me when he was with me. With him it was different, he was special. He was sweet and romantic and the love of my life. “Golden Age of Hustlers” affects people so much because I'm not proud of it. I didn't enjoy it. The song has that context to it. It’s not something I recommend people do. People get shocked by that because it's right on my sleeve. I've watched people destroy themselves. It has a very sweet melody so you don’t quite recognize it. It hits you as you get into the song. It’s talking about speed, actually, crystal meth, how there were boys with really good bodies, and I visibly saw them deflating. This gets into an area that I simply don't want to talk about. My speed problem was just ugly, and I don't like to talk about it. That's what this is getting into. It’s just— there's a line. I don't like people to think of me in those terms. It's more powerful than people realize. I have to stop there because I don't know how to say any of this stuff. I just don't know. I think that's enough, especially for today."


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