During a guest appearance on HBO’s Who’s Talking to Chris Wallace, the 80-year-old Copacabana singer said he didn’t think it was important to announce his sexuality during the earlier decades of his career.
Manilow came out in 2017, almost three years after he married his husband and manager Garry Kief in a private ceremony. The couple have been together for 45 years now, though they’ve kept much of their relationship away from the public eye.
When he came out to People magazine in 2017, Manilow — whose real name is Barry Pincus — worried he’d be “disappointing” some of his fans by revealing his sexuality. Instead, Manilow, who was 73 at the time, said the reaction from his fanbase was “beautiful.”
Despite his current feelings of nonchalance about his own coming out, Manilow said announcing his sexuality as his career was booming would have been a bad idea.
“Now being gay is no big deal,” he explained. “Back in the ’70s it would have killed a career.”
Regardless, the usually very private Manilow said he thinks “everybody knew that Garry and I were a couple all those years.”
“Really, Garry and I’ve been together for so long,” he said. “It just never dawned on me that we’re going to come out. But when we got married, it was a big deal, so we did.”
Manilow credited Kief for saving his life. He said he is thankful he had Kief to support him as his music career was taking off, despite keeping their relationship under wraps.
“As my career exploded, it was just crazy. And, you know, going back to an empty hotel room, you can get into a lot of trouble if you’re alone night after night after night,” Manilow explained. “But I met Garry right around when it was exploding. And I didn’t have to go back to those empty hotel rooms. I had somebody to cry with or to celebrate with.”
Manilow said he did not wish an isolated hotel room for any young people.
“It was pretty lonely until I met Garry. And then it was fun,” he smiled.
Kief is not Manilow’s first spouse. In 1964, Manilow married his high school sweetheart, Susan Deixler. They were married for one year.
Manilow told CNN’s Wallace he “really did love” Deixler, but added “the gay thing was pretty, pretty strong. I couldn’t deny it.”
The singer said he knew he was gay before marrying Deixler, but their marriage ended because Manilow couldn’t be the committed husband his then-wife needed. He revealed that his sexuality was not the reason his marriage failed.
“We had a very nice marriage, it was great, but I was away every night making music, as a young musician would be,” Manilow described. “It wasn’t good for me, and it wasn’t good for her.”
“I couldn’t be the proper husband,” he continued. “I was out making music every night, sowing my wild oats. I wasn’t ready to settle down.”
Brooklyn-born Manilow skyrocketed to international fame in 1974 after his release of the ever-popular pop-rock ballad Mandy. He became one of the biggest-selling musicians of all time. Prior to his success as a singer-songwriter, Manilow was behind a number of famous commercial jingles for brands like State Farm and Band-Aid — a gig that he has said helped him create catchy hooks for his own hit songs.
Matt Heath: My parting message: Enjoy things while they are around
A lot of big, tragic and important things have happened to this wonderful country of ours since April 2014. None of which I have covered. I was too busy writing about hungover parenting, ancient philosophy and my dog Colin.
Out of the 536 columns I have written, 27 were about that guy. Far too few. He is such a good boy, he deserves an article a week.
Today is the end of an era for me, and whenever these final events pop up in our lives, we can’t help but think about the ultimate end.
Everything we do, we will one day do for the last time. That’s why you have to enjoy things while they are around. It’s not just big events like leaving a job, house or loved one either. Whatever moment you happen to be in now, you will never get it back, and you don’t know how many more you have.
Everything we do in life, from eating pizza to spending time with the people we love, to driving, writing, drinking or breathing, we will one day experience for the final time. It might happen tomorrow. This can be either a depressing or an inspiring thought, depending on how you look at it.
A few years back in this column, I interviewed professor of philosophy William B Irvine, of Wright State University, Ohio, on this very topic. He put it this way on a Zoom call: “Recognition of the impermanence of everything in life can invest the things we do with a significance and intensity that would otherwise be absent. The only way we can be truly alive is if we make it our business periodically to entertain thoughts of the end.”
Today’s column is very meaningful to me because it is my last. Like the last night with a lover before she goes overseas. And just like a lover, there have been some half-arsed efforts put in from me over the years. Last week, for example, I spent 750 words moaning about how bad my cricket team is. But the truth is that any of my columns could have been the final. If I had reminded myself every week for the past 10 years that the end is inevitable, I may have been more grateful for having a column and appreciated writing them all as much as I am this one.
While everything we do could have more meaning with a focus on finitude, some things are inherently more worthwhile than others. There is no doubt my column “The pros and cons of wearing Speedos” from November 2022 was less meaningful than most things in this world. That was a waste of everyone’s time. So, if we only have so much time, how do we pick the best things to do?
Well, Oliver Burkeman, the author of Four Thousand Weeks – Time Management For Mortals, suggested this to me in a 2022 column: “Ask yourself, does this choice enlarge me? You usually know on some unspoken level if it does. That’s a good way to distinguish between options.”
With that in mind, I don’t feel great about my 2018 article on “New Zealand’s best hole”. That didn’t enlarge anyone.
There will be people reading this column right now who have loved my writing in the Herald and are sad to see it end. Others will have hated it and are glad to see me go. Many won’t have any opinion at all. But for those in the first camp, I have good news. I have a book coming out on May 28 called A Life Less Punishing – 13 Ways To Love The Life You Got (Allen and Unwin Book Publishers). It’s a deep dive into the history, philosophy and science of not wasting our time lost in anger, loneliness, humiliation, stress, fear, boredom and all the other ways we find to not enjoy perfectly good lives. It’s available for pre-order right now (google it if you’re interested).
A Life Less Punishing took me two years to write and is equivalent in words to 100 of these columns. Which would be a complete nightmare for those in the hate camp, but as I say, great news for those who want more.
Anyway, thanks to the Herald for having me, thanks to the lovely people who make an effort to say nice things to me about my column nearly every day and thanks to the universe for every single second we get.
Bless!
May her day be brimming with joy, happiness, and unforgettable memories. As she embarks on 
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