Hmmmm. Where to begin? Let’s start at the end and ramble a bit getting somewhere close to the beginning at some point.
My next door neighbor outed me to my mom. I’m not particularly bothered by it. My mom is a sweet, Christian lady who happens to listen to vile human beings. Today I asked her where she’d like to visit. She said Israel, but not alone. She’d want to be part of a tour group led by John Hagee. For those who don’t know, John Hagee is the glutonnous, latent homosexual preacher that said God sent Hurricane Katrina to destroy New Orleans because of the debauchery found there. Nevermind that Katrina left the French Quarter, the most debauched section of New Orleans,in tact. How my mom can be so good and listen to people so vile is vexing. When I told Samantha yesterday about the outing she said, “I’ve met your mom. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. You’ll be fine.”
By the way, I have no inside knowledge proving Hagee is gay, but he pegs my gaydar. One only needs to google his image to see that he is a glutton.
Let’s rewind the tape back a month before all of this drama happened. The SO and I are happy in our barn. We’ve been living there for 8 months. The barn is about 75 yards from my mom’s house. By the way, we live in a finished barn; there’s nothing unusual about that, OK? Neither I nor the SO have been further out west than Louisiana and are about to embark on a month-long exploration of the western US.
Mom hugs us bye, prays a blessing that we have a good trip, and waves bye as we head out in a packed Toyota Corolla. Nothing to see here. Typical gay couple with in denial parent living their happy lives.
Three weeks into our trip I receive a call from my brother. “That’s odd”, I think. My brother never calls me. We jam together. I play guitar. He plays drums. We shoot the breeze. We don’t talk on the phone. He never calls. And yet I get a call from him. He asks me how things are going and when I’m coming back. I tell him briefly about the trip and tell him we’ll be heading back in about a week. I get the feeling he has something he wants to tell me but write it off to the fact that he is in the process of getting a divorce.
The last week of our trip goes by and we check out of the Days Inn in Nashville, TN heading for south Alabama. I receive a call on the way. It’s my brother. I’m like, that’s weird. We chat a while and then he says, “Mom came by and said Mrs. C (henceforth known as “the bitch”) came by and said that she had proof that you were a homosexual. Mom came by and asked me if I knew anything about it. I answered honestly we’d never talked about it. Mom then told me how “The Bitch” presented the possibility to her. “The Bitch” came over to Mom’s house and said, ‘You are Levi. You don’t take care of your house or your family.’” My mom told my brother she was going to ask me about it when I got home. My brother told me he didn’t want to ruin my trip that’s why he waited to tell me on the way home. I thought that was nice.
Yesterday, we made it home. My mom had cooked chicken, my SO’s favorite. She fixed a delicious meal. She hugged us both. We visited awhile. We went to the barn glad to have avoided drama for the day.
I told my SO that if Mom and I were gonna have the chat I’d like to have it sooner than later. I told him that I was going to give Mom plenty of opportunity to talk today. Now for the anti-climax. Nothing has happened. There’s been no talk, no insinuation that there’s something that needs to be talked about. Nothing. Things have been normal. My mom is strong-willed. I don’t think that she’s forgotten about the issue. I assume she’s ruminating on it.
I’m going to tell The Bitch off early next week. I’ve been thinking on it, and I don’t see a downside to it. Though I am open to the opinions of the Teeming Millions. I’ll let y’all know how it goes.
