Fresh & Fruity

Fruit is a humorous word, as is fruity; “fruitiness” is inherently funny. I’ve never been called a fruit, but I don’t think this affects my judgment of it; I’ve been called a “faggot”, and I still laugh at that word. How can you not crack up at words that rhyme with “agate” and “toot”, particularly when they’re barked in anger? “Agate” is funny-sounding. “Faggot” is just “agate” with a funny hat. See what I mean?

fruitstripeOkay, I know it’s a fine line. What isn’t these days, when it comes to sharing dialogue? My point is, “fruity” used to be a thing. One needn’t necessarily be gay to be fruity, or even queer. Fruity is a sort of indefinable mien, typically the product of societal constraints, resulting in a general state of fruitiness. Like weirdos, fruits don’t refer to themselves as such, but are so named by the more ignorant of the species. To the unknowing, it’s like calling someone a “chair”, or a “table”.

As entertainment continues to move away from “hurting feelings”, a load-bearing pillar of basic comedy, another flavor of humor has been lost.

Fruit flavor.

Paul Lynde at home with his dog, c.1973. Photo by Kim Maydole Lynch - © 1978 Kim Maydole Lynch

Paul Lynde at home with his dog, c.1973. Photo by Kim Maydole Lynch – © 1978 Kim Maydole Lynch

Paul Lynde was known to most viewers as Uncle Arthur on the classic sitcom Bewitched, and the cutting wit at the center of the game show Hollywood Squares. He had the withering delivery and camp repertoire that only come with being a flamboyant gay man. His distinctive voice was so fucking charming that I thank god Seth McFarlane is channeling him into every episode of American Dad; McFarlane gets that a personality like Lynde deserves to live on in the public consciousness, poppers and all.

Paul Lynde gave Hollywood Squares what may be its greatest, fruitiest exchange.

Host: “You are the world’s most popular fruit. What are you?”

Lynde: “Humble.”

As with many gay and closeted entertainers of the 20th century, Lynde died under mysterious circumstances. The coroner compared his heart to that of an 88-year-old man (Lynde was 55 at the time of his death). Ol’ Paul rode his body into the ground, blazing. Unfortunately, this is where fruitiness becomes dismissive, jokers cluck their tongues and say “ehh, I always knew he was fruity.”

paulbenedict
Another lovable Paul of yesteryear is Paul Benedict, a towering goof I first remember painting random chairs on Sesame Street. He played jovial English neighbor Harry Bentley on The Jeffersons, providing Sherman Helmsley another breed of honky to spar with. As pictured above, he appeared as hotel clerk Tucker “Smitty” Brown in the mockumentary This Is Spinal Tap (1984). An argument over lodging with Tap manager Ian Faith (Tony Hendra) leads to a brilliant bit of fruit-repartee.

Ian: “I’m not talking to this twisted old fruit anymore!”

Smitty: “I’m just as God made me, sir.”

Benedict’s delivery of that line is amazingly genuine. It hints at a lifetime of being called a fruit, or worse. A poof. A pansy. A goony-bird. His response to this is to say, not in so many words, fuck you and your fruity little band. I like me. 

boogienights
Alfred Molina is one of my favorite actors, going all the way back to his heel turn on Indy in Raiders of the Lost Ark (“Throw me the idol, I throw you the whip!”). He made a great Dr. Octopus, and an even better Diego Rivera. But my favorite of Molina’s many roles is the insane cokehead Rahad Jackson from Boogie Nights (1997).

Rahad is fruitiness run amok. He freebases. He plays Russian Roulette. He sings Rick Springfield. His diminutive Chinese pal incessantly lights firecrackers, making it impossible for the protagonists (or the audience) to get comfortable. It’s one of the most gripping scenes in contemporary cinema, and Molina perfects it with his unpredictable fruitiness. He cackles with glee as he drops poor Thomas Jane with a shotgun, and chases Mark Wahlberg and John C. Reilly into the night, wearing little more than a silken bathrobe. That’s fuckin’ fruity!!!

During the “Golden Age” of the venerable cartoon program The Simpsons, an episode aired that shames the show’s current toothless state. “Homer’s Phobia”, from early 1997, guest-starred gay director and Baltimore legend John Waters as a novelty store owner whose homosexuality threatens Homer. It’s one of the very finest episodes of the entire run; Ron Hauge’s writing is biting and sharp, on par with Waters. There are lots of hilarious jokes that would never see air today, thanks to “sponsor pressure” and “empowerment”.

Circumstances see Homer Simpson accepting John Waters’ lifestyle, and he defends John to his friends Moe and Barney, who are still closed-minded despite John having saved their lives. Homer chides them thusly:

“Hey, we owe this guy! And I don’t want you calling him a ‘sissy’! This guy’s a FRUIT! Ah- no… Queer! Queer! Queer! That’s what you like to be called, right?”

When Dan Castellaneta hits the word “fruit”, John gives Homer the best animated side-eye since Daffy Duck got his beak blown off by Elmer Fudd. I wish I had a screen shot of it, but the “now you don’t get any candy” image will have to do.

No, that's cruel. Take a teensy piece.

No, that’s cruel. Take a teensy piece.

I hope my confused ramblings have illuminated an often forgotten corner of the entertainment world. Much as it is in fine wine, fruitiness is best appreciated in moderate doses. Trend-setters tended to be on the fruity side back in the day, and it wasn’t a bad thing. I don’t want to bring you down, but there will come a day where you won’t have Rip Taylor’s confetti to sweep up anymore.

And those are some mighty fruity shoes to fill, folks.

One of the nicest and funniest guys in showbiz.

One of the nicest and funniest guys in showbiz.

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