Stories from a man who fails to meet media expectations of what it means to be gay:
white, frivolous, over sexed yet sexless, shrill, single, stylish, a clown, unimportant, et al.

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Pride and closets and waffles:

John and I hadn�t intended on going to Long Beach Gay Pride both days, but a friend of ours who�s been dealing with a lot of issues in her life wanted to see Macy Gray, so we said yes to keeping her company. The intention was to get there early enough to see another friend of ours perform, but that didn�t quite work out, and we arrived just in time for the second to last act, some lip-synching drag queens.

A few were interesting. They were very energetic, making use of the fact that since they weren�t really singing they could dance and shimmy and jiggle their asses n� cleavage for all they were worth. The others were sort of boring, and reminded me of a time at San Francisco Pride listening to a woman go off on how &*$^%! Stupid lip-synching acts were! As far as she was concerned that main stage at Pride should be used to showcase out and proud LIVE acts that would rock down the place. I wonder what she thought of the idea of spending big bucks on getting big name performers both out and �straight but not narrow.�

So Macy Gray was the Saturday night big name performer and she did a great show. She worked the audience making us move to her beat, sing along, and do whatever the heck she wanted us to. She was very talented in her role as �Master� in that particular scenario. She sang, she spoke, she suggested that we get naked and make love. I remained fully clothed, though young dyke couples near me were making out so intensely that they were mere inches from that that sex command.

Afterward the show at a late meal at Roscoe�s Chicken and Waffle we praised Ms. Gray�s talent and made fun of her bass player. We laughed at him �cause he wore a �I love Pussy� T-shirt and spoke about how sexy the female back up singers were, presumably to ward off any misconceptions about his sexuality.

The next day we followed through with our original plan of going to pride with another set of friends, starting the day off with the parade. It been a while since I�ve seen the parade, and this one was spent largely ignoring it in favor of catching up with friends and talking about oddities of life such as accidentally going back into the closet.

How to accidentally go back into the closet: Come out to your mom in High school. Have a steady girlfriend/boyfriend (as appropriate), go to college, break up with girlfriend/boyfriend, get back together with girlfriend/boyfriend, break up with girlfriend/boyfriend, get back together with girlfriend/boyfriend, start spending a lot of time hanging out with someone of the opposite sex you�ve known since childhood, have your mom start talking about marriage, start wondering if you just imagined coming out to her, decide that even if that was only a figment of your imagination wonder how your mom never noticed the past few years of dyke/fag drama going on in her house, spend time wondering if you should mention to her that your wonderful friend of the opposite gender just came out of the closet and is queer as well.

It helps the process to have a Mexican mother, though I�m sure any mom of any ethnicity will do as long as there is a good amount of denial in her heart. The young woman who�s in the middle of this right now was not to thrilled when I told her it took a good decade and a half for my mother to stop with the nonsense.

The wonderful young man that mama doesn�t know is a fag was there hanging out with the stubborn daughter supposedly being a good influence on her. It was his first time at a Pride festival, so at the very least she was being a good influence on him. Young Mario is a sweet young guy, and as evidenced by all the heads turning in his direction that he never noticed, cute as well.

There are a few more stories, but that�s for later.

More later,
nico

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