Lily Tomlin takes Worcester

Lily Tomlin has a thing for elephants.

"I'm on a red eye flight the day after tomorrow," says Tomlin. "I've become involved with Jenny, an elephant at the LA Zoo."

Involved? Relax, right-wingers. The famously out actress and comedian isn't sliding down the slippery slope to pacaderm matrimony; no, she's still happily partnered (for nearly 38 years) with longtime collaborator Jane Wagner. Rather, Tomlin is referring to involvement of the social justice variety, with animal rights among the wide range of initiatives she supports in her busy schedule of performances and speaking engagements.

"Elephants in zoos, they suffer so mercilessly," says Tomlin. Unable to resist a pun, she adds, "It's the proverbial elephant in the room."

Now there's a metaphor that resonates. For years, Tomlin's sexuality was the lumbering shadow in the corner, an assumed presence that went unaddressed. After rising to fame in the early '70s with the sketch comedy show Laugh-In, Tomlin established a versatile career on stage and screen that has earned her awards of the Grammy, Emmy and Tony (for The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe, a one-woman show written by Wagner) variety, not to mention an Academy Award nomination. She also established a litany of iconic character performances that have become truly ingrained in popular culture: Ernestine, the snorting telephone operator; Edith Ann, the bratty toddler in the oversized rocking chair; and Pervis Hawkins, a male soul singer who was quite possibly mainstream media's introduction to the concept of the drag king persona.
Several of these characters will grace the stage on Oct. 19 at the Hanover Theatre in Worcester, Mass., when Tomlin will appear for an intimate evening of stand-up comedy.

But back in the 1970s, Tomlin says that being a gay woman in the entertainment industry was - unlike her burgeoning fame - the worst kept secret in showbiz.

"Everyone in the business knew," says Tomlin. And she adds that, though she did turn down a 1975 offer from Time magazine to come out on its cover, she was nonetheless always candid about the presence of Jane in her life; whether or not people reported it, she says, was a different matter.

"I never held a press conference, but I was pretty straightforward with people," says Tomlin. "It's just that people didn't write about it back then."

"In 1977, I was on the cover of Time and Newsweek at the same time," she recalls of the media's occasionally arbitrary nature. "That was considered a really big coup at the time. In one interview, it says I live alone... in the other, it says I live with Jane."

While the piece didn't outright declare the nature of their relationship, it was the first to set the ball rolling in a slow, inexorable move towards making the star's sexuality public knowledge. No dramatic outing here; by the time Tomlin was narrating the critically acclaimed 1995 documentary The Celluloid Closet, an examination of LGBT history in the entertainment industry, her own place in the community was a generally foregone conclusion.

"I was always involved in gay issues," says Tomlin. "But early on, I was much more identified as a feminist. I was involved with the women's movement ... and I did identify myself as a female before I identified as a lesbian."
Besides, the coming out process isn't just a public one; it's a private one, and sometimes that smaller, intimate audience is the one of greatest concern.

"It was a slow process for me," says Tomlin. "Sure, I was phenomenally, nationally famous ... but I was also raised in a Southern Baptist family. My brother is gay, too. We always had our partners, but people didn't talk about it."

Ultimately, she says, the decision whether, when, and how to come out is a highly personal one. And though her own method has always been casual candor, in today's world of paparazzi media so eager to out closeted celebrities, she has told younger stars seeking her confidence to take the obvious approach: follow their hearts.

"I've had a couple people come to me, as they're beginning to become famous, and tell me, 'So-and-so wants me to come out,'" says Tomlin. "I tell them that they don't need to do it for anyone else. They don't know your family situation. If it's not right for you, don't do it. Of course, I'm sure it will be an incredibly liberated feeling if you do, but only you can decide if it will do you good. It's a hard choice."

Tomlin may be comfortable dispensing wise words, but she promises that Sunday's show in Worcester will be an opportunity to raise issues that allow her audience to arrive at their own conclusions.

"I have too much respect for my audience to preach to them," says Tomlin. For example, she says, rather than rant about health care - another issue of prime importance to Tomlin - she allows her character Ernestine to make an appearance, now working for a big insurance group and getting a kick out of denying people coverage.

"I assume that my audience shares my sensibilities," says Tomlin. "Sometimes you get the rude awakening that people don't."

But humor is always a reliable vehicle when there's a driver like Tomlin at the wheel.

Says Tomlin: "When you have a funny idea or concept that is obliquely related to a greater social issue, it may not always be blatantly clear, but the layers are there."

And eventually, like an elephant in the room, they'll work their way out, one way or another.

Lily Tomlin appears at the Hanover Theatre in Worcester on Sunday, Oct. 19, 7 p.m. Tickets $35 to $65 via www.thehanovertheatre.org.