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Pals add twist to a 'gay' gala in Surrey
Martin Rooney lives in a typical two-storey home on a fairly typical street in Surrey. Traffic zooms by. Big dogs roam the house. A portion of his backyard is dedicated to an inflatable swimming pool. He wears T-shirts that tout mainstream brands of beer. He drives a Ford Taurus SE.
On closer inspection, the vehicle's licence plate reveals something more about the driver: The vanity plate reads "Empr 1," and it is located below a thin strip of rainbow-coloured reflection tape.
Yes, Martin Rooney is a gay man who lives in suburbia.
One day, over a shared portion of backyard fence, he met a woman named Melissa Efonoff. A friendship developed with his neighbour, who is married to a man named Alec. They have three kids, and apparently have plenty of friends who like to sip wine on warm summer evenings and laugh and be part of a friendly neighbourhood.
The backyard chatter eventually turned to Rooney's "other" life, as Emperor of the Imperial Sovereign Court of Surrey, Empire of the Peace Arch, which is part of a global court system. Rooney's lofty title comes with a crown, which he wears with pride, as Martin Storm. It's a gay thing.
But much to the Emperor's delight it's become a straight thing, too. Melissa was so intrigued by the court system's workings that she became known as Melissa Mayd Storm, the court's Imperial Princess.
"This whole world is a discovery, something completely new to me," says Melissa, a housewife. "The people I've met are amazing, and it's become such a community.... We have six-year-olds in the complex going, 'My mom knows a drag queen.' It's really opening up some young minds, making people more tolerant."
The court system is nothing new to Rooney. In the mid-1990s he moved here from Vancouver's West End, where he twice ran (unsuccessfully) for emperor. Last fall, he took the crown in Surrey for a year-long run.
"I can run again if I want, but I have no intention of doing that," he says. "It's fun to dress up in crowns and long gowns and other costumes, but it's a lot of work to be emperor. I spend five hours a day organizing events, fundraisers. It's a make-believe thing, and most people think it's silly and stupid, but it's a lot of fun, too."
Some of those events happen by the pool in Rooney's backyard, but others, like the Emperor's "turnabout" gala on May 7, are booked into the Days Inn hotel ballroom on King George Highway.
There, gays and straights will mix it up for a special endeavour: To raise enough money to buy Melissa's way into summer's annual Weekend to End Breast Cancer, which demands a minimum $2,000 entry fee. Hey, it's a good cause - and a really, really long 60-kilometre walk. Last August, it poured rain on Melissa and thousands of other brave participants.
"I didn't practise for it, and I didn't realize how far 60 K was," she relates. "It was great, though, an amazing experience. I will do it every year now, forever."
When the rain fell hard and her feet began to drag, she was helped from the curb by another woman.
"She was going through chemo.... I think she was 54 years old," recalls Melissa. "She picked me up and kept me walking, held onto me and got me through those last nine or 10 kilometres. She talked to me, told me what it was like to have cancer, that it wasn't so much the physical pain but the emotional pain, how tough it was to get up in the morning. When I found out what she was going through, I found it easy to walk after that. It was nothing compared to what she was going through. She had no hair but was full of life and vigour. It was completely inspirational."
Rooney knows the pain of living with a "terminal" illness. He's been HIV-positive since 1989, and has dealt with several bouts of pneumonia.
"When you live with something like cancer or HIV, your brain thinks that you have limited time, so those of living with diseases try to do whatever we can to help other people, and that makes us stronger."
On a disability pension, he keeps his brain active planning the court's fundraising events.
"It gives me strength," he says. "I have an immune system that could fall apart at any minute. When you wake up every morning and have something to do, like this, for Melissa and I, it's brought a whole new positive light to our lives, as neighbours and friends."
The pair's focus right now is the May 7 Straight to Drag event, to raise money for Melissa's Weekend to End Breast Cancer walk.
The concept of the event is a little confusing, but here goes: Attendees are encouraged to show up as the opposite of who they usually are, so it's men as women, women as men, queens as men, kings as women. People will sing live and do lip-sync performances. Much fun is promised.
For Rooney, the event could prove slightly traumatic. "I've had a goatee for three-and-a-half years, and it's coming off to raise a bunch of money," he says with a nervous laugh. "But it's supposed to be a fun night, a time when you get to do something that you normally don't get to do."
posted on 04/13/2005
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