Garrett adds undergraduate students and disabled men to the mix of ethnically and racially diverse renters, about half of whom he estimates were gay. Paul Groth, the author of Living Downtown: The History of Residential Hotels in the United States, notes that some of those occupying single room residences in the ‘70s would have somewhat resembled the men pictured in the video - in their 20s or 30s, a mix of white-collar and blue-collar residents, along with retired seniors and veterans. Several months after Garrett moved in, the Village People filmed exterior shots of the McBurney branch for the “YMCA” video. “It was in that room where I was able to finish my college education, where I was able to do acting auditions and work in the theater and know that I had a place to come back to that wasn’t going to cost an arm and a leg to pay for.” “It turned out that I actually liked room living,” Garrett said. The temporary arrangement became a 22-year stay.
#YOUTUBE GAY BAR SONG DRIVER#
It was around May 1978 when part of the ceiling of Garrett’s Hell’s Kitchen one-bedroom apartment fell in, and the then 26-year-old actor and taxi driver put down $40 for what was supposed to be a week stay at the McBurney Y. But it was a serious gym for people who really wanted to go and work out every day, and a nice place to live for working-class people.” “ did have some overlapping of gay cruising. “There was certainly a party aspect to their video and that time was the height of all the gay clubs in Chelsea,” recalls Davidson Garrett, who lived at the McBurney Y from 1978 through 2000. Yet former residents of the McBurney Y in Chelsea - the building that inspired the song, and which was featured in the video released in late 1978 - say the reality of stays at the YMCA in those days was more complicated than the lyrics portray, with gay culture and working-class workouts coexisting in a single communal space. The song has also immortalized the Young Men's Christian Association in pop culture. “Make a conscious effort to be like, ‘You know what? I haven't been there in a minute and I want to support them.’ Especially now with the capitalist society that we live in, and how everything is getting expensive, and how everyone is struggling, know that you have the power.In the 40 years since the Village People released “YMCA,” the song has become a cultural touchstone: a gay anthem famous for its innuendos and double entendres about young, fit men “having a good time,” as well as a staple at Yankees games and bar mitzvahs.
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“Support the places that you love,” he says. “What matters is sitting behind the DJ booth and listening to the first stories of like, ‘I never thought I would be here, but I did it right here … This is where I first found myself,’” he says.Īnd Alpuche says he hopes Angelenos continue to patronize their favorite local businesses.
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“Going into more debt is probably … the plan.”Īlpuche says that to help face the financial hurdles, he’s constantly reminding himself of why he’s in the business: to build a nurturing community where people support one another. You pay $2,000 a month for the rest of your life to keep it up,” he says. “It's like signing a deal with the devil. He’s considered launching another GoFundMe fundraiser, but he says he’d rather take out more loans, effectively consolidating all that he owes. But it's very much a local, small business.” “We are a true, forgive the term, but mom-and-pop, even though I'm a single father. “We don't make a half million dollars a year, we don't make half of that a year, we don't even make a quarter of that a year,” he explains. That’s because the bar is making just enough cash to cover daily operating costs. Right now, Alpuche says he’s making minimum payments on his loans, but it’s not enough to make a dent in the debt.
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Small businesses nationwide borrowed more than $300 billion in disaster relief loans to weather COVID-related lockdowns, and they’re on the hook to pay it back. It’s not just the Alpuche and the Redline. We're gonna take a 30-year loan out, I'll figure out a way to pay it so we survive.’” Between back rent, water, power, and other bills, he owes $487,000 – far more than he can imagine actually paying back.Īlpuche took out PPP and disaster relief loans, but he’s learned that some of them come with a price: “You think a disaster relief loan is something that's like, ‘Yay, it's gonna help you, you don't have to pay interest,’” he says.īut no: “The interest is higher than a mortgage, the payments are as long as the mortgage. According to owner Oliver Alpuche, he’s facing a mountain of debt that he accumulated during that long closure. Bartenders sling drinks, emcees host drag performances, and customers party in a safe space for LA’s LGBTQ+ community.īut the Redline has a financial hangover. Hanging out at downtown LA gay bar Redline, you’d think 15 months of pandemic closure was a distant memory, now that bars have been reopened for almost a year.