What We Can Learn From Leslie Jordan

Brace yourselves. I'm about to use a baseball metaphor.

Last Sunday night, we delighted in seeing character actor Leslie Jordan performing Show Pony, a one-man performance about his recent Hollywood adventures. When I wasn't laughing out loud at his breathlessly recounted stories, I couldn't help but admire what he has accomplished.

OK, now the baseball metaphor. As far as traditional Hollywood goes, Leslie Jordan had three 'strikes' against him—and still managed to hit a home run.

Arriving in Los Angeles in 1982 with "dreams as big as the California sky," Leslie's first potential strike was his height. At 4 feet 11 inches, he wasn't exactly of leading-man stature.

Then there was his deep Tennessee accent, which apparently hasn't diminished despite living in Los Angeles for over 30 years. Leslie has the kind of accent you could stick a spoon into and it would stand straight up.

The third potential strike? Leslie Jordan is "the gayest man I know," he says. In his book and stand-up show My Trip Down the Pink Carpet, he shares tales of Hollywood directors trying in vain to "butch" him up, such as the time he played an FBI agent in an early TV role.

When you put the pieces together, Leslie's chances of success seemed dim at best. In 1982, he was already 27, which is bordering on retirement age by Hollywood casting standards. He was diminutive, had a thick Southern accent, and was obviously gay. Was he out of his mind, thinking he could have a movie/TV career?

Absolutely. And being out of his mind clearly worked for him.

Leslie confesses on stage and in his book that when he arrived in Los Angeles, he struggled with religious shame and self-confidence, along with alcohol and drug abuse. Despite the internal struggles and the big odds against him, he worked hard, learned how to showcase and fine-tune his inimitable style, became sober, and eventually won an Emmy (for Will and Grace).

Not surprisingly, Leslie has become a hero to the gay community. I think his amazing life illustrates an important lesson for everyone: That our self-perceived limitations can actually be assets in disguise. All we have to do, as Leslie might say, is to learn how "to work it, y'all."

Left to right: Me, Bob Wheeler, Leslie Jordan, Kurt Kleespies, Nick Parham (March 2014)