Categories
Entertainment LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 Man, What Are You Doing Here?

Dave sitting at piano, with the words "It's me they've been coming to see" superimposed on the image.

“Piano Man” is about a straight entertainer oblivious to the fact he’s playing in a gay bar.

People have theorized about this for a long time. But I can prove it.

“Piano Man,” of course, is Billy Joel’s signature song. It’s a clarion call for straight people. They stop what they’re doing when they hear the first few notes. By the time the harmonica licks begin, they’re on their feet. They belt out the entire song from memory, unironically, as if they were overcome with religious fervor.

I suppose it’s their “I Will Survive.”

I’m going to lay out my case in two parts: First, I’ll provide some background information and context. Then I’ll analyze the lyrics, focusing on each character named in the song. By the end, you’ll be convinced and will never hear the song the same way again.

This is part of my Gayskool project:
A new LGBTQ-themed post every day for Pride month.

The Early Seventies After Stonewall

Joel says he based “Piano Man” on his experiences playing in lounges in Los Angeles in the early 1970s. It was a transformational and challenging time for both straight and gay men.

Straight men had to ensure the horror of leisure suits. (Shudder.)

Gay men, on the other hand, had to reevaluate and reorient their lives after Stonewall broke all of the paradigms and conventions of dealing with society. No one knew how to navigate this new world. Freedom went hand-in-hand with fear. But at least we avoided the leisure suits.

In 2024, it’s hard to fathom the rapid and fundamental changes gay men experienced in the early ’70s. They saw things that would have been unimaginable just a few years earlier, including the first Pride parades.

Before Stonewall, LGBTQ activism was mainly cautious, reserved, and incremental. To be fair, it was a pragmatic and calculated approach led by realists who understood the politics and culture of the time. Stonewall ignited a new type of activism: We no longer wanted to be polite and non-threatening in the hopes that the majority would reward us with rights and dignity. We would go out and win rights and demand dignity. Gay is good was supplanted by Out of the closets and into the streets!

This new attitude changed the way many gay men socialized. They were done hiding in the dark and in the closet. A gay bar in San Francisco tore down walls (literally and figuratively) and installed windows. Think about what that meant! For the first time, gay men were willing to be seen publicly in a gay bar.

View of the Castro showing the Twin Peaks Lounge sign an a large Pride flag.
The Twin Peaks Lounge, a bar that opened in the 1930s on the corner of Castro and Market streets in San Francisco, installed street-facing windows in 1972. That made it the first gay bar in the world where people inside could be seen by passers-by.

We also stopped hiding when we turned out en masse for disco. Our celebrations were louder, bigger, more visible — and much more fabulous — than ever.

This is an incredible story, but I’ve left out an important part: Not everyone was ready to come out and get down. Many people had no option but to remain in the closet. Their livelihoods and very lives were on the line.

These folks couldn’t risk being spotted sipping cocktails in one of these new bars, or sweating under a mirror ball on an electrified dance floor. They needed to seek refuge in a familiar place where they would feel safe and comfortable.

Somwhere like a piano bar.

Meet the Customers and Staff

Listen carefully to “Piano Man” and you’ll notice that the customers:

  • Are all men
  • Are regulars
  • Aren’t happy

This would fit the cultural and historical context I’ve described above. The men at this bar feel life is passing them by. This is because they are locked out of the joy, excitement, and validation now open to so many others. They have always known the misery of exclusion from the straight world, and now they also had to deal with the weight of feeling left out of an exciting new gay world.

All they have is a bar they’ve patronized for years … where they feel welcome and secure … and where the clueless piano player won’t out them.

Unnamed Customer

There’s an old man sittin’ next to me
Makin’ love to his tonic and gin
He says, “Son, can you play me a memory?
I’m not really sure how it goes
But it’s sad, and it’s sweet, and I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man’s clothes”

This customer feels out of place today, so he wants to be reminded of a time when the world made sense. I picture him as a WW2 veteran who found some degree of happiness and security in California after the war. He’s about 50 years old now, afraid to change, and envious of the young people who can enjoy the freedom and happiness he never experienced.

Two more points:

  • The younger man’s clothes may not have been his clothes. The Complimentary Spouse is older than I am, so every time he raids my closet, he’s wearing a younger man’s clothes.
  • I assume that he’s requesting a Judy Garland song.

John the Bartender

Now John at the bar is a friend of mine
He gets me my drinks for free
And he’s quick with a joke, or to light up your smoke
But there’s someplace that he’d rather be
He says, “Bill, I believe this is killing me”
As the smile ran away from his face
“Well, I’m sure that I could be a movie star
If I could get out of this place”

There are two things to unpack here.

First, John is hitting on the piano player. I know of what I speak. I’ve been hit on by bartenders. I’ve hit on bartenders. I’ve gotten a lot more than free drinks, flirty jokes, and a light from bartenders, if you catch my drift.

Second, John fantasizes about being a movie star but knows he’ll never be on a marquee. If we are to assume this bar is in Los Angeles (because the song is about Joel’s real-life experience as a piano player there), Hollywood is right down the road. So when John says, “if I could only get out of this place,” he’s not talking about somewhere on a map. The place he can’t escape from is the closet.

Paul

Now Paul is a real estate novelist
Who never had time for a wife

Two things here:

First, “Who never had time for a wife” — uh, duh. You don’t need gaydar to figure this one out.

Second, unless Paul writes novels about real estate (“Zen and the Art of Property Maintenance”?), he’s compartmentalizing his professional life (real estate) and his creative life (writing). Gay men learn how to compartmentalize early. It’s a survival skill that allows us to integrate with society without opening parts of our identity to judgment and ridicule. It also helps explain why Paul, like every other customer, is miserable.

The damaging part of learning to live your life in two parts, whether in reality or fantasy, cannot be underestimated. It is an infectious skill that you learned, one that would eventually spread beyond the bedroom of your life. Life wasn’t ever what it seemed on the surface. Nothing could be trusted for what it appeared to be. After all, you weren’t what you appeared to be. In learning to hide part of yourself, you lost the ability to trust anything or anyone fully. Without knowing it, you traded humane innocence for dry cynicism.

Alan Downs, “The Velvet Rage: Overcoming the Pain of Growing Up Gay in a Straight Man’s World.”

Davy

And he’s talkin’ with Davy, who’s still in the Navy
And probably will be for life

Davy is in the closet. If the military learns he is gay, he will be dishonorably discharged. Coming to a piano bar, instead of one of the new gay bars or a disco, minimizes his chance of being outed — which his how he’ll ensure he’ll be in the Navy for life.

Why stay in the Navy instead of pursuing a government or private sector job? In the 1970s, it didn’t matter who you worked for. Being outed most likely meant being fired.

Also: In the Navy, you can put your mind at ease.

The Waitress

And the waitress is practicing politics

There are two ways to interpret this:

  • The waitress is discussing politics. Since it’s the early ’70s, that means she’s talking about things like the Civil Rights Movement, Vietnam, and Watergate. These are not good topics to bring up if you want tips from uptight straight guys.
  • The waitress is playing politics. That means manipulation, gossip, alliances, and backstabbing. So. Much. Drama. And you know who loves drama?
Jenna Maroney, star of “The Rural Juror” and “Jackie Jormp-Jomp.”

The Manager

And the manager gives me a smile
‘Cause he knows that it’s me they’ve been comin’ to see
To forget about life for a while

Stroking your talent’s ego isn’t a gay or straight thing. It’s just good management.

The Ending

The song ends with:

And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar
And say, “Man, what are you doin’ here?”

Are the customers asking a direct question? Or just dropping a hint? No matter how you interpret this last line, it’s clearly queerly obvious that the piano player is the only person who doesn’t know he’s in a gay bar.

“Piano Man,” like many songs, is open to interpretation. I have shared mine. Yours might be different. Who’s to say which one is correct?

Or, in other words …

You may be wrong, but you may be right.

Categories
LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 Eight Years Later

Today is the eighth anniversary of the Pulse nightclub massacre.

The building is still there, but it is not a club. It is a scar that will never heal. Its ghosts call us to action and remind us to live.

The truth is, the most important lesson I learned after Pulse also seems to be the timeliest: we can only get through these trying times together.

Brandon J. Wolf, “A Place For Us: A Memoir”
Pulse survivor, author, and activist
Categories
LGBTQ Sportsball

🏳️‍🌈 Straight-Up Whiffing

The Texas Rangers started using the tagline “Straight Up Texas” on June 1, the first day of Pride Month.

To quote the great Yogi Berra, “It’s like déjà vu all over again.”

Year after year, the Rangers refuse to acknowledge their LGBTQ fans. While every other team in Major League Baseball tells us baseball is for everyone — bring on the rainbow banners and Pride games — the Rangers have been content to sit on the bench and pretend gay people don’t exist.

Actually, this year, it’s worse than that. Instead of ignoring us, the Rangers straight-up insulted us. “Straight Up Texas” is the antithesis of saying baseball is for everyone.

Here’s the full story from Queerty: “Texas Rangers find themselves embroiled in another Pride Month controversy”

“Straight Up Texas” isn’t a new rallying cry. The Rangers have used it before. However, it’s hard to believe it’s a coincidence that they’re using this slogan during Pride Month.1

If this is the Rangers’ way of throwing shade at LGBTQ people, their pitching sucks. If you’re going to try to insult us, at least be clever about it. Apparently, they don’t teach camp at spring training camp.

This is part of my Gayskool project:
A new LGBTQ-themed post every day for Pride month.

The Rangers Are Batting .000

I’ve written before about the history of Pride games (cf. Take Me Out to the Ballgame) and what these events mean to people who aren’t part of the LGBTQ community (cf. Allies Go to Bat for Pride Games).2

Major League Baseball (the organization) and 29 teams tell us baseball is for everyone. But the Rangers aren’t getting the message.

To quote the great Yogi Berra, “They made too many wrong mistakes.”

Compare the stuck-in-the-mud Rangers with my beloved Tampa Bay Rays, a team that has been leading the way in embracing LGBTQ fans for more than a decade.

The Rays were among the first teams to record an It Gets Better video for the Trevor Project. In fact, I think they were the first team in all four of the major sports leagues (MLB, NHL, NBA, and NFL) to contribute to this critical and groundbreaking campaign.

The Rays’ first Pride event came days after the horrific Pulse massacre in Orlando. The team immediately realized they needed to do more than hand out rainbow flags. They removed the deck tarps, made every seat in the Trop available, and created an event where the entire community — not just LGBTQ people — could come together, grieve, show our resilience, and gain a sense of normalcy throughout nine innings.

Here are some Instagram posts from the Rays. Do yourself a favor and don’t wade into the comments section.

Inclusive Baseball Is a Home Run

The Rays, like everyone else but the Rangers in baseball, are moving forward. They’ve done so much, but there’s still more to accomplish.

To quote the great Yogi Berra, “It ain’t too far, but it ain’t close either.”

In contrast, the Rangers are headed in the wrong direction. That’s their prerogative.

To paraphrase the great Yogi Berra, “If they don’t want out people to come out to the ballpark, nobody’s going to stop them.”

Perhaps the solution is to send the Rangers down the minors. They keep striking out while everyone else is rounding the bases. They clearly have much to learn.

Footnotes
  1. A life lesson from Dave: Don’t give the benefit of the doubt to people or organizations that have already shown they don’t deserve it. ↩︎
  2. Fun fact: A gay player invited the high five! ↩︎
Categories
LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 Gaydar Detector

I’ve been asked if gaydar is a thing.

Yes, it is, but it’s limited.

That’s why I have Gaydar Pro, which unlocks full functionality and removes ads. It’s only $9.99 a month. Available on the App Store.

(Insert rimshot here.)

Gaydar is indeed a thing, but so is déjà vu, intuition, and the placebo effect. It exists but is hard to explain. That doesn’t stop people from trying to figure it out, though.

This is part of my Gayskool project:
A new LGBTQ-themed post every day for Pride month.

Psychologist Nicholas Rule at the University of Toronto, for example, has conducted many studies into perception and judgment. His research with gay men and lesbians shows:

  • Gay men can accurately identify another man’s sexual orientation just from a face photo.
  • Lesbians can do the same with a photo of a woman’s face.
  • It takes about 50 milliseconds for this to happen.
  • You don’t need to show a photo of the entire face. It also works if you show only the eyes.
  • The results are nowhere near 100% correct, but they are much too accurate to be explained by chance alone.

Perhaps the question shouldn’t be if gaydar is a thing, but what kind of thing it is.

As an amateur skeptic, I’ll immediately dismiss the possibility that it’s mystical energy and magical auras. It can’t be pheromones, since gaydar works with photographs. Nor can it be Farrah Moan, since she was eliminated in episode 8 of her season and didn’t make it too far in All-Stars. Oh, Ru!

Here’s my unscientific, unresearched, and most likely incorrect theory:

Gaydar is most likely related to body language, facial expressions, and social cues. Gay men instinctively learn, through trial and error, what actions and characteristics indicate a person is gay. I don’t think it’s an innate skill, but it’s driven by an inherent need to identify others like us.

If this is the case, gaydar should become more accurate over time as we learn which blips on our screens are truly gay men and which are Zaddy Zac Efron. This experience prepares us to extrapolate information from incomplete data, which explains how we can determine sexual orientation from a photograph.

Perhaps the best description of gaydar comes from a short story written by a straight author and told from the perspective of a straight narrator. It’s from “The Country Ahead of Us, The Country Behind” by David Guterson. I remember nothing of the book but the following passage, which has stuck with me for nearly 30 years:

When I was twenty-four I saw Wyman again in a bar in west Seattle. He was shooting pool with two other men, the three of them circling the table with their cues and leaning low into the smoky light there to take their shots with the utmost seriousness. It was not so much something in their appearance, or even in their manner, that suggested what I came to conclude from the scene: that Wyman was gay, a homosexual. It was rather their intimacy that suggested it, the way in which their pool game shut them off from the world and made them a society unto themselves, so that what the rest of the bar might think of them was a matter of complete insignificance. 

David Guterson, “The Country Ahead of Us, The Country Behind”

Perhaps that’s all gaydar is: A skill born of necessity to bring us together and protect us from harm over centuries of discrimination, degradation, and shame. If that ain’t worth $9.99 a month, I don’t know what is.

Categories
LGBTQ Married Life

🏳️‍🌈 Presentando a Mi Media Naranja

Britt and Dave on a street covered with umbrellas in San Jose, Puerto Rico

There are two words for husband in Spanish, but I only use one to refer to mi media naranja, the Complimentary Spouse:

Marido.

A few English speakers have tried to tell me that the correct word is esposo. 

Really? ¿Cómo te atreves a cuestionarme?

There are two reasons why esposo is not the right word. One is conventional, and the other has to do with same-sex marriage.

This is part of my Gayskool project:
A new LGBTQ-themed post every day for Pride month.

First, marido is the word I’ve always used for husband. Growing up in Madrid, marido y mujer meant husband and wife. No one used esposo y esposa in everyday language. They are formal words, like those you’d find in legal documents.1

Second, there is no feminine version of marido.2

That’s critical for me because I no longer speak Spanish well. I forget essential words and stumble over verbs all the time. Recently, I couldn’t remember the word for spoon and had to ask for un tenedor para sopa.3 The few times I have said esposo, the person I was talking to assumed I meant esposa. I’d assume the same if I were dealing with someone with the vocabulary and grammar skills of a discombobulated toddler.

With marido, there’s no confusion. People get it right away.

Because of how gender works in Spanish grammar, saying somos esposos is open to interpretation. Most people will assume it refers to an opposite-sex married couple. But somos maridos is unambiguous. It means we’re husbands.

Being out and visible makes a difference, no matter where you are or what language you’re speaking. Not only is marido the right word to use, but it’s also the right word to describe the other half of my orange.

_____
1 I think American schools teach esposo y esposa because it follows the simple, predictable pattern for pairs of masculine and feminine nouns. I’m talking about simple, well-known words like perro y perra, professor y professora, or cazafantasmo y cazafantasma.

2 The word marida exists, but it’s not a noun, and it doesn’t mean wife.

3 Britt says I speak Spanish better than I think I do. On a train from Segovia to Madrid a few years ago, I turned to him and said, “You know, I really wish I could still speak Spanish well.”

“At lunch, you explained Critical Race Theory to the couple next to us,” he said.4

“I’m not sure it made sense,” I said. “I probably sounded no smarter than a six-year-old.”

“They clearly understood you,” Britt said. “And a lot people protesting CRT sound no smarter than a six-year-old … in their native language.”

4 No, I did not turn to them abruptly and say, “Can you pass the salt and, also, do you want to hear about controversial U.S. social issues?” We struck up a conversation about how great the restaurant was, and we ended up chatting all lunch. They asked about CRT because something was recently on the news in Spain, but they didn’t fully understand it.

Categories
LGBTQ Sportsball

🏳️‍🌈 Allies Go to Bat for Pride Games

Person wearing a Pride bucket hat, facing the field at a Rays game.

Updated on June 9, 2024, with more fabulous feedback from adorable allies!

The Complimentary Spouse and I spent this afternoon at the Trop, America’s best OKest worst godawfulest ballpark, and saw our beloved but bumbling Tampa Bay Rays lose to the Orioles. We had a gay ol’ time, despite the loss, because it was this year’s Pride game.

This is part of my Gayskool project:
A new LGBTQ-themed post every day for Pride month.

I’ve written about Pride games before (cf. Take Me Out to the Ballgame and Up High!), but I’ve never asked straight allies what they think about them. I reached out to a few friends to get their thoughts. Here’s what they said:

I feel proud to be part of a celebration of humanity. 🌈

It’s always great to celebrate humanity. It’s even better with hot dogs and beer.

I think of Pride games the same way I think of all such games. Whether it’s Jackie Robinson Day, Roberto Clemente Day, Jewish Heritage Day, or any similar day, it’s all about recognition. They demonstrate that baseball is for anyone and everyone. All people should be comfortable at the ballpark, whether playing or in the stands.

When I’m at a Pride game, or any similar type game for the matter, for whatever reason, I find myself looking around to see if there are any assholes who have a problem with anything that is happening. But I love seeing the people celebrating the day.

I wish we were at a point where such days weren’t necessary. But those who have a problem with it are the ones who get ostracized. That’s progress.

Yup, I see my fair share of sneers, whispered asides, and disdainful looks. But I know the assholes have to be on their best behavior at these events, so I feel more amused than endangered.

Their discomfort tickles and sustains me.

I think it’s fabulous! It opens the eyes of straight white heterosexual men in an environment they’re comfortable in.

Yup, I see this too! A lot of people in the stands aren’t used to being around so many out and proud LGBTQ folks. They see real human beings, not stereotypes from teevee or the bogeymen our enemies portray us as. Sometimes, I catch them waving rainbow flags, mouthing the words when the DJ plays a gay anthem, and applauding the same-sex couples featured on the KissCam.

Their comfort tickles and sustains me.

What is this thing you call “sporting events”?!

It’s that stuff that happens before and after the Super Bowl halftime show. No, not the commercials. The other stuff.

I remember one time I wore a red shirt to Disney. This was before the internet, and I had no idea it was Gay Day. People kept coming up to me to celebrate. It took me a while to figure out what was going on. I didn’t mind. I liked being part of something like that.

I think it’s the same thing with Pride games. People are celebrating something important to them. What’s the problem with that?

By the way, you guys need more than a month. Pride should be all year long.

“By the way, do you still wear red shirts?” he asked.

“No, we’re doing hot pink T-shirts covered with Swarovski crystals now,” I replied.

Fun for the whole family.

Not only that, but you’re guaranteed to hear Sister Sledge’s “We Are Family.”

It’s pretty much the only time I go. My straight friends never invite me to baseball games.

I’m biased, but I certainly think events are more fun with LGBTQ people. Especially baseball, because every term related to the game is a gay double entendre.

I know you’re dying to learn what those sporty yet naughty terms are. Well, I’m not going to tell you here. You’ll just have to join Britt and me at an upcoming Pride game.

Categories
LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 Naming a Plague

Before AIDS was called AIDS, it had another name. Actually, a few.

In 1981, doctors noticed an unexpected and alarming increase in pneumonia deaths among gay men. The cause was a sexually transmitted disease that attacked the immune system.

Researchers named the disease Gay-Related Immune Deficiency, or GRID. It was sometimes called Gay Lymph Node Syndrome, Gay Compromise Syndrome, and Community-Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome.

Some simply called it Gay Cancer.

By late 1982, it was becoming clear that gay men weren’t the only victims. Some people who had received blood transfusions or shared intravenous needles were also succumbing to the same disease. The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention began calling it Auto-Immune Deficiency Syndrome, or AIDS.

I grew up as the plague took hold, insulated from it but not ignorant about it. The word AIDS (or SIDA when I lived in Spain) was inescapable when I was in my teens, and I knew that it wasn’t simply a medical term. Those four capital letters could be more powerful and devastating than a nuclear bomb (another inescaple term from my teens) becuase led to pain, ridicule, shame, guilt, ostraciziation, hate, and death.1

I learned later that, for some, the word did more than strike fear and invite despair. The acronym of my nightmares ignited compassion, spurred action, transfomed people into activists and allies, and gave us the strength, vision, and moral impertive to push for acceptance, diginity, and equal rights.

The word AIDS connotes despair and darkness — rightfully so — but let’s never forget it also refers to love and hope. After all, what’s in a name? Whatever we want.

Footnote
  1. An interesting but utterly inconsequential footnote: The Complimentary Spouse used to belong to an academic association called the American Institute for Decision Sciences. That meant he contributed to AIDS journals and participated in AIDS conferences. In 1986, for obvious reasons, it changed its name to the Decision Sciences Institute. ↩︎
Categories
LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 Three Words for Allies to Live By

Pride flag in Christopher Park, NYC

Not long ago, someone asked what it takes to be a good LGBTQ ally.

The answer comes down to three words: empathy, education, and advocacy.

This is part of my Gayskool project:
A new LGBTQ-themed post every day for Pride month.

Empathy

Empathy helps you understand what we’re feeling and experiencing at a visceral level. With it, you bring emotional intelligence, compassion, and sensitivity to your allyship.

Empathy is about standing in someone else’s shoes, feeling with his or her heart, seeing with his or her eyes. Not only is empathy hard to outsource and automate, but it makes the world a better place.

Daniel H. Pink

Education

Education doesn’t mean earning a degree or walking across a stage to collect a diploma — although commencement ceremonies are an excuse to get dressed up! Think of that gown as a little black dress or a muumuu. Either way, you look fabulous.

To educate yourself, actively watch, listen, and ask questions about LGBTQ issues. Be curious and eager to learn. Don’t worry about becoming an expert.

I remember speaking to a primary care physician about ten years ago and asking him what blood type I am. I didn’t know; it had never been recorded on my chart, and I wondered if he could run a test. He said donating blood was the easiest, fastest, cheapest way to determine my type.

He knew I was gay. But he had no idea that, at the time, gay men couldn’t donate blood. He said he had no idea when I told him about the ban.

I don’t think he was ignorant, and I know he wasn’t hateful or homophobic. As smart as he was about medicine, I wish he had been better educated about this issue. It made me feel like I was living in his blind spot.

A quick aside to my LGBTQ family: We’re also on the hook for education. It’s imperative that we educate our allies — in a way that’s constructive and encouraging — to ensure they’re informed. That’s what I did with my doctor.

And there’s no excuse for us not to educate ourselves. There’s nothing that infuriates me more than an LGBTQ person who doesn’t know about the very issues that affect their lives, livelihoods, and dignity.

Advocacy

As an ally, your most important role is to advocate for LGBTQ people, especially when we can’t advocate for ourselves. Be a champion.

Here are some things allies do that I appreciate:

  • Being visible at events like Pride: Just waving a rainbow flag is more meaningful than you can imagine.
  • Sharing your pronouns: Something as simple as adding he/him or she/her to your email signature can make a huge difference. It lets others know they can share their pronouns with you without fear, discomfort, or judgment. Consider putting pronouns in your social media profiles and using them when you introduce yourself.
  • Correcting others: If you hear someone use outdated or offensive terminology, set them straight point out the error. I had to do this the other day when someone called herself a “f– hag,” believe it or not.1 Unless I have reason to believe otherwise, I assume the speaker doesn’t know their language is offensive and attempt to address the issue respectfully.2
  • Calling out homophobia: Don’t let it slide when others make disparaging remarks, perpetuate stereotypes, or make hateful jokes. And don’t let the speaker turn the tables and claim you’re too sensitive or don’t have a sense of humor. The issue is what’s being said — not how you react to it.3

Being an ally can’t just be about nodding when someone says something we agree with — important as that is. It must also be about action. It’s our job to stand up for those who are not at the table when life-altering decisions are made.

Kamala Harris

More About Allyship

There are many resources for LGBTQ allies on the Internet, but none are as comprehensive as this Human Rights Campaign report.

Footnotes
  1. No, sweetie, that word doesn’t fly. I don’t care that all your friends thought it was funny 15 years ago. ↩︎
  2. But G-d help the next person who says “sexual preference” within earshot of me. Them’s fighting words, and I will cut a bitch. ↩︎
  3. Also, “I apologize if you were offended” is not an apology. “I apologize for what I said” is. ↩︎
Categories
LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 Do You Kiss Your Mother’s Guns With That Mouth?

I intend to write a post soon about the usage of “gay” as an insult — as in the expression “that’s so gay” — but I’m pressed for time today, so let me share the following article from the mother Advocate:

“Kyle Rittenhouse mocked for trying to make ‘gay’ a slur on the first day of Pride Month.”

— The Advocate, June 5, 2024

“Being called gay is not quite the insult Rittenhouse thinks it is. In fact, it’s a compliment. To quote Richie Jackson, “Being gay is, still, acting up and fighting back.”

Categories
LGBTQ

🏳️‍🌈 Illuminating Pride

The war on LGBTQ people here in Florida is real. The bigots in the state legislature are coming for our books, entertainers, health care, dignity — and now our light bulbs.

But my queer peers in Jacksonville are fighting back with a bright idea. They spread across the iconic Main Street Bridge with flashlights to create a rainbow.

Brilliant. Simply brilliant.