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Saturday, June 25, 2005

Watching Movie and a Make-over...

...is a result of being bored. That boredom allows my brain far too much time to wonder. Right now I was wondering why gay guys have such a great eye for fashion. I wish I had a gay guy to shop for me. Probably not a Boy George-type gay dude, maybe more like a Truman Capote gay dude. I bet he had some good fashion sense.

I have to be curious as to what type of fashion sense a gay guy like Rock Hudson would have had. Man, I didn’t see that one coming. I can’t believe that I looked at George Michaels dancing in those pink shorts and didn’t figure that one out. He was just so pretty, he couldn’t have been gay! But, he was...gay, gay, gay. And Elton John was flaming but I don’t think most of us even thought about homosexuality back then, I know I didn’t. I certainly wouldn’t have associated crazy clothing with being gay...it was the 70’s. But, do you ever wonder who is out there, all gay and lovin’ it...but we’re as clueless as we were with Hudson?

I would hate to find out that Tom Cruise is gay but it wouldn’t surprise me. It wouldn’t surprise me about Brad Pitt either, those two boys are just so pretty that I am sure that if they wanted to, they could have. Hell, they’re in Los Angeles, those folks are the Mikey’s of our country. If anyone WOULD be willing to try something different, it’d be them.

“Sex with another man? Let’s get those LA people...they won’t mind, they’ll try ANYTHING.”

But I can’t see the same thing in Michael Madsen. Now, THAT would freak me out. He’s just too big and handsome in a manly sort of way. And, there was something in his eyes in that cop-torture scene in Reservoir Dogs...I just don’t think ANY gay guy would take a chance on someone with that look in their eyes.

Like I said, I never thought much about gayness in the 70’s. I did have one teacher that I did KNOW was gay, but I don’t know why I knew it. Everybody knew and nobody cared, except for a few whacky parents.
He was my favorite teacher and he was the coach of the Speech team that I was on. I was so happy the first time my parents got to meet him at the Parent-Teacher meeting.

I couldn’t wait to see what my father thought of him, simply because I thought so much of him. The day after the meeting, I actually spoke to my teacher, F.T., before I spoke to my Dad. F.T. said that he thought my father was very nice. I was pleased.

Then, later that day, I spoke to Dad.

“Dad, F.T. really liked you!”

With a flop of the wrist, my father responded, “I thought he might.”

That's my Dad, he’ll make a joke out of anything. He didn’t care that this guy was flaming gay...not one bit. (But, as I’ve mentioned, he was on the school board and he was aware of parent complaints that I was unaware of. I actually spoke with that teacher a few years ago, I found him teaching at private university in Illinois. He is still the same kind, friendly man that he was 30 years ago. After all this time, and I’m sure a lot of trouble from parents, he still exudes happiness.) My father didn’t mind, but he wouldn’t let that opportunity to make a joke pass, he never does miss a chance to make a joke.

He loved to crack up all 6 of us when we were kids. The head of the dinner table was the stage from which he would entertain us. He’d start out by asking us about our day and sooner or later, something would strike him as funny and then he would start. He’d get us all in such a crazy mood that we would do things we would never have done without his inspiration. He would have a few laughs and then, after he saw that there were 6 out of control children at the dinner table, he would quickly put an end to the frolics.

We had to go back to the “seen but not heard” kids that we had been before he had worked us up into a food throwing frenzy. We could do it, that was no problem. We knew how to dummy up and stand straight when Dad walked into the room so it wasn’t tough for us to go from the frenzy back to normal. But...we couldn’t take back what we had already done and that got me into quite a bit of trouble after one of these episodes.

During the height of my father’s dinner time lunacy, I had placed a large spoonful of mashed potatoes on his shoe. After he put an abrupt end to the hilarity, I could act right...but I couldn’t take back the mashed potatoes. I couldn’t even tell him about the mess on his shoe. By the time he pushed himself away from the dinner table, the potatoes had been smeared all over his shoes, top and bottom. When he went to stand up, he slipped and fell back into his chair. He looked down at his shoes and when his eyes came back up, they went directly toward mine. I don’t know how, but he always knew who did what. I guess he figured one of the boys would have put the potatoes in his pocket and a girl would do the shoe-thing, I don’t know. But he knew it was me and I didn’t bother denying it because I knew that my punishment would be the same as my current plan...I was to go to my room.

What a stupid punishment, I had a television, record player, radio and phone in my room. I would have been eating there in the first place if they had allowed it.

I never used that one on my kids...I sent them to MY room. There was never anything fun happening in there.

Meg

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