The next time somebody tries to tell you that gay relationships don’t last, point to songwriters Gean Harwood and the late Bruhs (pronounced Bruce) Mero, whose 60-plus years together are celebrated in Tom Wilson Weinberg’s “Bruhs and Gean,” a moving musical outfitted with Weinberg’s graceful score. The Arts Project of Cherry Grove’s Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender Pride/4th of July presentation at the Community House, “Bruhs and Gean,” also known as “Sixty Years with Bruhs and Gean,” is an hour-long version of a quarter-of-an-hour piece Weinberg wrote for the New York City Gay Men’s Chorus in the mid-1990s. As dramatic events in American history and in the couple’s personal story fly by, it is clear that even further expansion would be welcome.

Bruhs and Gean met shortly before the Stock Market Crash of 1929, were Grand Marshals of the 1985 Pride March, and lived together until 1992, when Bruhs developed Alzheimer’s disease and Gean could no longer take care of him. Weinberg, at the piano, assisted a vital and versatile young cast, consisting of Scott Evan Davis and Jason Summers, portraying the protagonists at different ages, and Roberto Gonzales, Jr., as everything from their friends, landlord, and a horny choregrapher to movie stars and reporters. Summers was also responsible for direction and choreography and Michi Yamaguchi was the producer. Matt Baney and company handled lights and sound.

Bruhs and Gean’s meeting is light-hearted (“Tea Time at the Savoy Plaza”), but they know, given the times, that keeping their relationship covert is essential. They almost meekly apply for an apartment from a crass landlord who declares, “No sissies in my apartment.” Bruhs goes to an audition (“All I Know is I Want to Dance”) and the dancing master puts the make on him. Working for Paramount Pictures, Gean copes with the demands of Marlene Dietrich, Jack Benny, Mae West, Maurice Chevalier, Cary Grant, Groucho Marx, Gloria Swanson and Ethel Merman, all impersonated, in a rapid-fire tour de force, by Gonzales (“I’m Ready for My Departure, Mr. Harwood”). As the couple’s friend, Jasper, Gonzales makes a heartfelt wish for a lover of some substance “Older Man”) and the trio bouncily airs plans to open a homosexual hangout disguised as a hetero one (“Nucleus Club”) – i.e. where arriving gays and lesbians pretend to be each other’s dates – until they get inside.

Gean hesitantly admits to extra-curricular affairs, but, in a sentimental number employing Harwood’s music and Weinberg’s lyrics, a philosophical Bruhs allays his misgivings (“I Get Most of You”). As the Joseph McCarthy-J. Edgar Hoover era of anti-gay persecution begins – and is quickly dispatched – Bruhs and Gean, lacking any public place to display their affection, waltz tenderly, at home, to dulcet strains issuing from the radio (“It’s Always Fred and Ginger”). Sixteen years later, as they grieve for just deceased gay icon Judy Garland, an angry activist friend tells them of the “Bricks and Bottles” that Greenwich Village gays are hurling at police who raided the Stonewall bar. Bruhs and Gean explain the life they are used to in a quiet, but emotion-laden duet (“Secret World”).
In another waltz, in a scene set in 1978, Bruhs tentatively flirts with coming out publicly (“A Toe in the Water”). Dragged to an anniversary party against their will, the pair marks 53 years together with a hesitant speech to their guests (“It’s Only Longevity”) and, three years later, proudly take their places in a post-Stonewall gay world (“Out of the Brunches and into the Streets”). Seven years pass and, in a wrenching exchange, Gean places Bruhs – who, in dementia, no longer knows his partner – in a nursing home, but, instead of taking leave of our heroes on this depressing note, Weinberg flashes back to a happier time, with the men, at home, in each other’s arms (“Sharing a Dance with You”).

Inspired by Harwood’s book, “The Oldest Gay Couple in America,” Weinberg’s show was, as a program note put it, “lovingly dedicated to Gean Harwood and to the memory of Bruhs Mero.”