Bitter Old Nelly Country Bumpkin Queen

I have been called a homophobe.  It's true.  I don't know how it's possible, but there is a thought out there that I may be a homophobe.  I'm gay, for those of you to whom I have not come out of the closet to.  There may be a Zimbabwean reading this.

So I'm at the gym today and I see this guy working out.  Very attractive gentleman, mid thirties, muscular, shaved head, masculine,  Latino origin.  My type.  Nothing happened from it, I just noticed him.  

Ultimately, I'm wailing on my triceps and he gets on the machine next to me.  And a friend of his flounces over to him and they start dissing, and gossiping, and the lisp is in full gear, and the wrist is at an absolute 90 degree angle through the whole conversation.  My interest waned.

My question is:  where does that come from?  It can't be in any way connected with the part of the brain that makes us gay, can it?  I don't have that behavior, and most of the gay people I socialize with don't either.  Now granted, no one has ever accused me of hyper masculinity, but I have surprised a few people when they discovered my sexual preference.  (Apparently, introducing yourself to a friend of a friend by saying 'Nice to meet you, man' is very straight)  And not that that's a good or bad thing, because it's neither.  It's just that we don't HAVE to have a common bond in our mannerisms.

I blame the Christian white man at the end of the day.  I think that 'gay' behaviors are a learned action begun from the pre-teen years when one begins to orient.   Let me go back:

I didn't acknowledge my sexuality until I was 17.  I'm from a small town in Illinois where we just don't have any gays.  Being as such, I had no role models to initiate me or that I could mimic. The only thing I knew about 'the gays' was their annual parade in SF that made it on NBC news, so I witnessed a bunch of men in dresses and leather marching through the city. So, while I did have an interest in men, I wasn't that interested in dresses or leather, so how could I have been gay?  I just assumed it to be a teen sex phase that we are all warned we would go through.  My phase just happened to be taking a very VERY long time. 

But for most of the gay men that are aware of their orientation earlier (which is a bulk of the gay population), there are role models and rituals established from the time of Adam and Steve (or at least Oscar Wilde).  We had to be closeted, or risk getting jailed or beaten up or killed.  Maybe this was a code system set up and it became the expected behaviors to keep us in society, but separate.  

Or maybe this is dictated to our psyche as the behavior we are SUPPOSED to adopt because that it is how we fit in. Maybe the lisp is the gay version of the rings that certain African women put around their neck.  Or foot binding.

I don't know where the gossiping fits in, but for God's sake, stop it!

On the subway the other day, a seemingly harmless youth (say 15 or 16) is sitting in a full car when I step in.  So I grab the bar to hold on, and this kid says, "Sir, would you like my seat?"  I said, "No, it's all right,"  and he says, "No, really.  I can stand."  So I belted him to the ground and stomped on his stomach while screaming, "How The Fuck Old Do You Think I Am, You Bastard Child Of Satan!?"

Where ya been?!

I'm SO SORRY!!! I feel so terrible that I haven't been able to talk with you recently, but I've been super busy, what with packing and moving and all.

What?  I didn't tell you that I was moving?!! Why, yes, yes I did move.  To Manhattan, of all places.  You know what my cross street is?  Broadway.  If I can make it there....  

I think I need a new job.  Being at Foam Creepo does not mix well with new city lifestyle.  Not to mention that I'm really starting to hate it.  

OH!  I ran into a gal the other day, and her husband is a puppeteer, of all things!  Did I mention that I'M a puppeteer?  Well, I've operated puppets, anyway.  And I made a couple in my life.  Not the traditional type like you're thinking of (Charlie McCarthy, Howdy Doody, and the ilk), but more of a body puppet type thing, a la Julie Taymor.  Look her up if you don't know and enlighten yourself.  So that got me excited to pursue that avenue, as I've always been more creative than what my current job allows me to be.  I'm horribly miscast in my role as tool supervisor.  Angela Lansbury would be better cast in that role than me.  John Waters would be better cast.   Lassie would be... you see where I'm going.

So anyway, it's really hard to move when you have a very dramatic situation happening in your life.  Israel, my Mexican mantart was visiting for a week.  Boy was that great!

He was living in Canada for several months as sort of a social experiment.  He went to Canada to work as an illegal immigrant, just to get a feel of what his countrymen are going through.

Apparently it's Hell.  He had several jobs, one of which was SHOVELING THE SNOW OFF OF ROOFS!!!  From 5PM TO 5AM!!!!  IN MONTREAL!!!  AT -16 DEGREES!!!  Can you imagine a scenario where there would be an American on a roof in -16 weather for twelve hours?  I gotta tell ya, we Americans really screwed things up.  Because you know that everyone knows that these soul crushing jobs are manned by the illegal immigrants who are working in basically indentured servitude, and we do nothing to stop it, or make sure that these people are making a decent wage, and not being exploited.  

And yes, I know, he was in Canada.  But the only difference is that Canada at least has a bit more humane treatment of any illegal caught in their country.  Because the USA is a whole lot worse.  And the only reason we have undocumented workers over here is not because we can't get them, but because our economy would be twice as worse off if we didn't have slave labor.  Fucking Republicans.

And I think Israel got his soul beat up pretty bad in the five months he was experiencing that.  Not that I knew him all that well before he came here, but he was pretty deflated.  I think by the end of his visit though, without going into detail, he was re-inflated.  I hope so.  Very very very great man.  At the age of 27.  Born in 1981, for the love of Pete.

I have a really good new roommate who loves to clean the bathroom, but I'm going to miss the shit out of my old roommate.  You remember Brandon, right?  Teen Wolf from Halloween?  Good people.  Gave me a beer tonight when I went back to get a few odds and ends, like my loofah pad.  And don't tell Israel, but I can't find the scarf he gave me.  Pissing me off.

Alright, no more talking -  I gots to go to sleep in my new bedroom.