If You’ve Got It, Flaunt It!

flaunt it

More than once in the very recent past I’ve seen an online comment featuring some variation of the “I don’t care what people do in their private life as long as they’re not all up in my grill with it” sentiment. In other words, “I don’t care if you’re gay, as long as you’re not all gay about it.”

Just today I was told, “You want to talk about the gay stuff be gay don’t flaunt it.” Despite the lack of punctuation, I understand what he’s saying. And I also don’t. I can see how some people would consider our Pride Parades flaunting it. I mean, some of the entries can be fairly outrageous and might be shocking to the heteronormative community. And perhaps two fellows dressed in assless chaps and short-shorts making out in the Home Goods section of the Boise, ID Wal-Mart would also be seen as flaunting it.

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Gaylord, Lord of The Gays

gay jesusI am not above engaging in an intense “discussion” with a person, or people, on the internet. Most of the time, I let posts and comments go — no matter how ill-informed or narrow-minded. People are entitled to their opinions and battles should be carefully chosen.

But sometimes, I simply cannot resist jumping into the fray. You can count on counting my two-cents if you insist on saying something blatantly homophobic. I don’t care how much “Christian” good-will you try to disguise it in.

I have no problem with people of the religious persuasion. I am not one of them, but I (generally) respect the beliefs of people who lean in that direction. However, when you take it upon yourself to start judging others—and I’m pretty sure there’s a whole deal in that book about “judging not lest ye be judged” — then you can’t probably count on a comment or two from me.

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Alphabet Soup

Unless you’re in grade school or younger (and if you are, please log off — this blog is not for you), there are things that make you realize you’re getting older.

In junior high your andy-warhol-campbells-alphabet-soupbody changes. In high school, you get the driver’s license experience. In your twenties, you have college or moving out on your own. Or the pressure to move out. Or the begging and pleading and cajoling to a please move the fuck out already!

Then you turn thirty and everything starts making you feel old. You stop getting carded in bars. Baristas start calling you “ma ‘am.” You sit down to watch the Grammys and have no idea who anyone is.

I also understand that for heterosexuals the clock starts tick-tocking on when you’ll get married and start reproducing. I did not experience this, because when I was that age, marriage equality wasn’t even on the horizon. Perhaps now that it exists, thirty-something lesbians and gay men feel the same pressure to get married, but I haven’t seen any studies or the matter, so I can’t be sure.

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I’m Not Queer

I have been somewhat taken to task by a reader who felt a recent post wasn’t quite up to snuff for an “apparently queer blog.” But before I begin, I want to clarify that this isn’t a rebuttal-slam post. The comment simply set my noggin wheels to spinning and this is a product of that spin cycle.

I also want to make it clear Continue reading →