The Gays and Me

My first knowledge that there were such things as homosexuals came when I was a young boy -- probably 9 or so. I went with my Dad, a giftware salesman, so visit one of his customers -- a store, I think, in Queens. Ha. Anyway, the two owners were very effiminate men, who acted like a married couple, and I asked my Dad about them. "Oh, they're gay -- just men who love men." He may have used the Yiddish term faygeleh -- I'm not sure. But to him, it was no big deal -- the same as a fellow who preferred redheaded women, for example. And I guess that imprinted my own views on homosexuals -- who really gives a hell? In college, a guy named Vinny lived on my floor. He was an Italian from Brooklyn -- talked and acted tough. One night, in his room, he put his hand on my knee and gazed into my eyes, asking if I shared "special feelings for him." I laughed, hugged him, and told him I preferred the ladies. Afterwards, some of the other "straight" guys allowed as he had come on to them, and they wanted to kick his ass. Didn't I want to punish this pervert, too? I did not -- again -- who cared? My dear friend Barry has the worst Gaydar of anyone. After working with a colleague for months, who introduced her live in lover as her "roommate," he thought she was just a roommate. Later, when he was a faculty member, a young Jewish intern from NY came to see him, admitting he was depressed and lonely. Barry assured him he'd meet a nice girl, and that would make him happy. A colleague later told Barry that the young doc probably did want to meet someone, but not a nice girl. Barry has learned now. The problem is, too many folks DO care about others' preferences. Last night, Wifey, D2, and I watched "The Day it Snowed in Miami," a Public TV documentary about gay struggles here, dating from the late 70s when the airhead Anita Bryant spearheaded the reversal of gay rights laws in the County. We were delighted to see our new neighbor Joan as a featured interviewee, as well as our broker Damian. The film shows the journey from 1977 to 1998, when the County finally passed the human rights ordinance. Joan had the most poignant comment -- she said the tragedy was that the time and money spent combatting bigotry and ignorance could have been spent trying to cure a disease. D2 watched as one of her generation, who never thinks being gay is any big deal. She wondered how anyone could actually believe being gay is a choice -- as many of the morons in the documentary claimed it was. With so many things that need fixing in this world, worrying about another's sexual prefences seems like a colossal waste of time. My Dad taught me that in the late 60s. Hopefully we've evolved...