Though I am taking a mini-break from my life, I can't help keeping in touch with y'all.
Officially, I am taking this long weekend to sit quietly and contemplate my navel. Having been invited to the beach on Long Island, it seemed like a great idea. Several weeks ago I did a piece listing the 12 reasons why I was not gay anymore, homosexual yes, gay no. Surely there are more reasons that I chose to omit from that list, but now, sitting here at the Bay Cafe in Fire Island Pines, the list grows…by the minute. Let me start by saying that I have not been out here to the Pines in over 20 years. My first time was in the late 70’s, the Studio 54 era, before they invented muscles, and being chic was a calling, not a desperate attempt. Women swathed in exotic caftans (a few queens too, by the way), Burrow-ettes, were those of us who clicked with Stephen Burrows, and were styled accordingly in zig-zag stitched, silky gorgeous numbers and headbands, there was a freedom of expression, individuality and…what can I say…it sure ain’t that now. As I sit here watching the parade of postage stamp bathing suit beauties with perfectly tones bodies, bitchy cocked-eyes, prancing through town showing off their catch of the day, I was reminded of my list and wanted to add a few more reasons why I am not gay anymore.
- I don’t clump is a group and dance with my shirt off.
- I smile when passing people I have seen around for 300 years, although they would sooner die than acknowledge your existence.
- I don’t read the gay rags featuring scary photos of tweaking queens with drinks in their hands.
- I don’t start conversations with other people about myself.
- I don’t cruise anymore because I have come to the realization that it feels awkward and weird.
- I don’t pretend to listen to what you are saying and look at the entrance for who is coming into the room.
All this to say, I do intend to shut up and get a tan and continue to work on not being gay anymore. Have a great weekend.
