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| "The Plaque at the Stonewall Inn" by Grace Mahony. CC BY-SA 4.0. Via Wikimedia Commons. |
Trust me, I don't do this lightly. I'm generally not a very sentimental person, and I'm not a very good Gay with a capital G kind of guy in that a lot of conventional LGBTWhatever touchstones--like Pride events or every time a Q-list celeb proclaims, "Some days I feel like a woman"--just leave me uninspired. I know I should be feeling a certain way, seeing gay life and politics through a particular lens, feeling "the struggle" and recommitting myself to fighting the good fight and being out and proud. And yet mostly the inner snarky 14-year-old boy in me wins out, and all I can do is shrug and say, "This is lame."
***
This week a friend posted a photo on Facebook from the end of grad school, now 24 years ago, when a bunch of us celebrated by going to Ocracoke Island (off the North Carolina coast) and renting a portion of a beach house for a week. I don't remember whose idea it was and who organized it (not me), but it was a great idea, a way to bring about the often-wished for "closure" and to say goodbye before we moved on with our professional and personal lives.
My only regret from the week is that more people weren't invited along because grad school was kind of a golden time for me. There were a lot of people I enjoyed getting to know then, and it's unfortunate that time has moved on and I haven't kept in touch with all of them. And, word to the wise, if you let friendships lapse, sometimes you just can't return and pick up where you left off.
So on this trip, the friend who posted the photo (let's call him Doe, because he has the most beautiful dark eyes) brought along a friend of his (let's call him Jed), who was not part of our grad school circle, a friend that Doe knew from "real life" outside of grad school, and pretty much Doe's best friend. Jed was alright, but initially maybe a little surly and closed off in a sort of typical Southern straight guy way, very much the North Carolina Bubba with a strong hick accent and the sort of traditional redneck interests to match. (Or that's how I remember it: All I recall is an interest in cars and country music, and I'm not even sure about those two.)
Jed was nice looking, but I wasn't attracted to him in that way: I was very much in love at the time with someone (let's call him ... or never mind) who now I wonder what I ever saw in him--and, besides, Jed was dating (let's call her) Melanie, a fellow grad student, and while I wouldn't have described it as the love match of the century, Melanie and Jed seemed happy enough.
As time passed, Jed loosened up some and ultimately was very funny and entertaining. But snob that I can be sometimes, I just thought, oh dear, he is such a Bubba. I'm sure I was thinking something like, "The sooner I leave this all behind, the better!" And yet in three months' time, I moved to Texas. So clearly I have a history of reaching questionable conclusions and making curious decisions based on those conclusions. (Still, my time in North Carolina and my time in Texas were some of the best of my life so far.)
But at that moment I didn't know where I was going--I still hadn't found a job yet and was likely occupied with my own personal concerns at the time. For example, this trip confirmed that I had developed a fear of heights, something that continues to this day. (The clue: I stayed in the beach house's lighthouse-like tower--tall, narrow, and vertical, like every condo building in Toronto--and felt the room spin and the urge to throw myself down the stairs every time I lay my head down on the pillow.) In addition, I probably spent a lot of time thinking how, once again, I was "the only gay in the village." Nobody made me feel uncomfortable--quite the opposite in fact--but for better or for worse, a sense of being "the other" follows me pretty much wherever I go.
To tell the truth, I was actually not the only gay in the village. There had been another grad student invited along on the trip (let's call him Jot), who prior to the trip I was told was dating a woman, a friend of Melanie named--
"Hold on. Jot is dating a woman? Like a real woman?"
"Yes, Jot is straight."
"Uh, Jot is not straight. Honestly, if he's straight, he's the nelliest straight guy I've ever seen."
"Well, he and (let's call her) Barbarella are engaged to be married."
I shrugged it off. My gaydar really stinks, I thought--except that secretly I was sure that I was right. And at some point before we left on that trip, Jot had an "old roommate" come to visit for a long weekend. And during said weekend, Jot and his old roommate pretty much blew the door off that closet.
So then I really was the only gay in the village ...
***
When Doe posted the photo, I saw that he had linked to Jed's profile. Hey, look, there's Jed! I thought. I'd almost forgotten about him! I wonder what he's been up to all these years ....
I clicked through and saw Jed looking pretty much the same as he did 24 years ago--still attractive and smiling a slightly bemused smile. Nothing out of the ordinary (other than 24 years of living had not reduced his youthful appearance), very much as I remembered him.
And then I saw that Jed had indicated he is married. I knew it wasn't Melanie; I had heard they'd broken up long ago. And, besides, the partner had a decidedly male name (let's call him Allis-Chalmers). I did a double-take and enunciated the words slowly in my mind: "Jed ... is married ... to ... Allis-Chalmers?"
This is surely a joke! He must have done this as a laugh! That Jed! Always such a kidder!
I scrolled a little more through his timeline and sure enough, there were several photos of Jed and A-C, some from what appeared to be a romantic vacation to a European country, perhaps a honeymoon, from a few years ago.
Talk about carrying a joke for a really long time ...
But then it sunk in: Jed ... is married ... to Allis-Chalmers! And that's a just wonderful.
***
I don't know why but this turn of events just amazes me in a very good way. I like the fact that Jed seems to have found his "true self," that he's found someone to love, and that they've spent time abroad. I like that Jed, who seemed like such a country boy, defied conventional wisdom and came out as a gay man, likely something that no one expected he would do, maybe not even himself.
I like that my friend Doe is still good friends with Jed--but then Doe is a thoughtful, kind, and deeply spiritual individual, so it makes sense that he would still be good friends with Jed when others might have let the friendship drop once Jed came out. (In a subsequent conversation with Jed, we both fessed up to having a crush on Doe. Doe was and still is quite dreamy!)
I like that Jed surprised me and taught me a lesson (which I will no doubt soon forget) about making assumptions, about presuming to know what someone is about based on appearance, accent, interests, etc. While Jot proved me right, Jed proved me wrong. I like that Jed reminded me that being gay and being a man can mean all kinds of things, not just the stereotypes that others have in mind nor the stereotypes that I have in mind.
So, Jed, you will likely never see this post, but I wish you and Allis-Chalmers all the luck and love in the world. Thanks for surprising me. Thanks for giving me something to be less cynical and more hopeful about.
Happy Pride to you and to everyone. At this moment, I feel very proud, of you, of me, of all of us.
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