With the passing of George Wendt, America lost more than a sitcom star. We lost our everyman, our barstool bard, the guy who could walk into a room and get a standing ovation just for showing up. Any of us who liked to drink and had our favorite haunts dreamed of emulating an entrance like Norm Peterson's.
Keep up with the latest in LGBTQ+ news and politics. Sign up for The Advocate's email newsletter.
For 11 seasons on Cheers, Wendt played Norm, the beer-loving accountant whose name was always greeted like a hero’s by the regulars at the bar. But one of Norm’s most unexpected and quietly profound moments came not when he was cracking wise with Cliff,but when he was pretending, just for a while, to be something he wasn’t.
And so many of us, particularly queer people at the time, knew exactly how he felt.
It was among the show’s and Norm’s most memorable moments and one episode that stood out for its ahead-of-its-time commentary on identity and stereotypes: “Norm, Is That You?” from 1988.
In this episode, Norm discovers a hidden talent for interior design after helping Frasier and Lilith redecorate their apartment. Frasier insists he has a gift, to which Norm replies with his first hint at a more revealing subtext, "Gift? Try curse, pal. I spent my whole damn life trying to cover up the fact that I have a great sense of color and I always know where to stick the ottoman."
For gay men, it wasn’t hard to figure out what those lines were actually about.
Recognizing his skill, the Cranes recommend him to their snotty friends, the Coopers. However, Frasier warns Norm that the uppity Coopers expect their designer to be "stylish.” That was a euphemism implying they want a gay man. To secure the job, Norm adopts a flamboyant persona, complete with ascots and affected speech.
Initially, Norm plays the part convincingly, impressing the Coopers with his design ideas and his exuberant flair. But as the evening progresses, the charade becomes unbearable. When the Coopers suggest setting him up with another man, Norm can no longer maintain the facade.
"I can't go on with this any longer. I wanted to be your decorator, so I pretended to be who I thought you wanted me to be, but it's time I came out of the closet. I'm straight," he nervously confesses.
Norm's declaration subverts expectations, highlighting the absurdity of associating certain professions or traits with sexual orientation. Plus, those of us who were gay know exactly what Norm was trying to say.
He continues, “Ever since I was a little boy, I've known that I prefer girls. But the point is, I think you should judge people for what they do, not for who they do.”
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the flipped-under meaning of what Norm was really conveying when he “came out of the closet” as a straight man.
George Wendt on Frasier
NBCUniversal
Norm wasn’t just talking about professions or straight men. He was talking about people. His confession to the Coopers wasn’t just a punchl ine, it was a quiet thesis: Don’t judge a book by its cover.
In Norm, Cheers gave us the perfect dichotomy, a paunchy, beer-guzzling regular who defied the flamboyant stereotype society often projected onto gay men or those in creative professions. The joke wasn't on gay people; rather it was on the assumptions we make about them. And at the same time, the reverse could be true. A gay man isn’t always flamboyant — he can be masculine with an affinity for a brewski.
Norm’s discomfort with pretending to be someone he wasn’t was a moment of personal integrity that still hits home today. The message was clear, if subtle, that who you are has nothing to do with how you look, what you drink, who you love, or who you sleep with.
At a time when gay representation on television was almost nonexistent, or filled with caricatures like a theatrical designer, for instance, the Cheers episode was a radical statement. The writers didn’t need to say that Norm wasn’t gay. They didn’t need to say he was. The point was, a man could love beer and loathe drapes, or love drapes and loathe beer, and none of it defined his sexuality or his soul.
And if someone assumed otherwise, maybe the problem wasn’t the person being misunderstood, but the person doing the assuming.
In many ways, that episode from the tail end of the Reagan era has more to say about gender roles, sexuality, and identity than some shows airing today. It resists the urge to punch down. It doesn’t make Norm a hero for being straight, nor does it treat queerness like a punch line.
You have to remember that the 1980s was a decade when AIDS still cast a terrifying shadow over American culture, when gay characters were rarely seen unless they were dying, flamboyant, or punch lines. Coming out seemed like an impossibility, but Norm made you feel like that it just might be possible.
It’s a moment that resonated for us who were still in the closet, fearful of coming out. We knew what Norm was trying to say to us. We heard him loud and clear. He did something more powerful, and that was showing that authenticity mattered. And that sometimes, being yourself is more revolutionary than any performance could ever be.
For a mainstream network sitcom to even suggest that a man might be mistaken for gay and still be worthy of sympathy, respect, and dignity was huge. For Cheers to do it without winking, without cruelty, and with genuine heart, well, that’s television history.
Wendt wasn’t a loud actor. He was cuddly while being a bit irascible. Yet he quietly gave Norm Peterson a soul. He made you care about a man who sat in the same seat for over a decade, drank the same beer, and said the same things but always managed to say them just right.
And in that one episode, he made you think about something bigger than a bar or a joke or a job. He made you think about what it meant to be human.
Voices is dedicated to featuring a wide range of inspiring personal stories and impactful opinions from the LGBTQ+ community and its allies. Visit Advocate.com/submit to learn more about submission guidelines. Views expressed in Voices stories are those of the guest writers, columnists, and editors, and do not directly represent the views of The Advocate or our parent company, equalpride.
George Wendt on Frasier
NBCUniversal
