I get thousands of invitations to parties that bear the words "open bar," and then I get there and discover it's an open Pabst Blue Ribbon bar. An open Night Train bar. An open Cheetos bar.

Last night at GLAAD's Out Auction -- ticket prices starting at $125 -- the "open bar" featured Bud, some unknown wine, and Stoli. Maybe it was intended to remind us about the tragic plight of the gay community: I mean, we can't even get fuckin' Grey Goose to pony up a bottle or two.

Still, the art was good, with Herb Ritts' fun-house photos of Madonna a highlight. Lots of handsome men, good music, okay food, great gift bags. Joel Grey is exceedingly nice to people twice his height. At the buffet a chef held a knife to an enormous wheel of cheese. I walked up to him and he looked at me like, "Yes?"

If you're standing next to one huge wheel of cheese, what are the options? I felt like saying, "Could I borrow that to kill a dog?"

I have mixed feelings about GLAAD, and the party was the perfect metaphor: you really can't judge their accomplishment without knowing their staff or budget. Also, I question president Jarrett Barrios' claim that they were responsible for getting So You Think You Can Dance to apologize for insulting a same-sex couple.

Still, in the end I was reminded why these events are necessary. They help form community, they spur fundraising, and they show us that there are optimistic, enthusiastic people on our side trying to do things that need to be done. Maybe there are better or cheaper ways of doing what they're doing, but I haven't seen anybody doing them. So thanks, GLAAD, and keep up the good work.