Mr. Z?
I’ve respect for your raquetball partner, because she didn’t throw it in your face. I know the people here are more interested in treating me with scorn because I speak from the experiences I have had (ie: my Uncle, about 20 or so people in the Art Department when I was an art student years ago, my theatre group (hell, I’ve never seen someone come on as hard as one of those people, who practically slammed it in my face, because he ASSUMED I’d hate him) and more.
But they focus on what I said about the homosexuals who do rub it in your face, and keep pushing and pushing and pushing, and never talk about anything else.
Did they notice that I also spoke up against the people who do the gay bashing? About how they are wrong? No. You see, the thing I’m finding is this is no better than the Left Behind board situation. I’ve an opinion. Rather than saying “I disagree,” they feel the need to say “You’re wrong.” Well, in MY experiences, I’m right. I disagree with them, and for that, they have barraged my comments with insults.
I’m not going to discuss this any further. It’s obvious that those who posted in the beginning no longer are interested in a friendly discussion or debate, and the only ones left are those who feel the need to flame anyone who disagrees…even if they only HALF disagree.
How fortunate for them that the only gays they’ve ever known are the nice ones.
How fortunate for them that they never met the one I met in College, back in 88, who came up to me in class one day and said, in these words, “You’ll never be as good an artist as I am, because I’m gay.”
Granted, I wasn’t as good an artist as he. And I know that full well, and don’t feel bad about him being better. (far better, if you ask me. His work WAS good.) But hell, it’s not because he was gay, and that WASN’T a “friendly” thing to do.
Nor is it “friendly” to have EVERY conversation with your uncle be about his homosexuality. No exceptions. Oh, his second daughter’s getting married, and he’s gay.
He’s quit his job, and he’s gay.
He’s going on vacation, and he’s gay.
And then there’s a dear friend of mine. D. worked with me, in fact, I was the Supervisor at the restaurant at the time. We’d go out after work, get something to eat (we got sick of “our food,”) and talk. We’d laugh about which waiter had the best butt. And then, we’d go home. It wasn’t too long before he started telling me about his affairs. Now, it’s one thing to tell a friend about the boyfriend. But when you start giving the gorey details? That’s just not right. But when I said, “Please. I really don’t want to hear that much detail.” He got offended and told me that I didn’t want to hear it because he was gay. Which wasn’t true. I wouldn’t want to hear about it from any of my heterosexual friends, either. Some things are SUPPOSED to be private and tender. Bringing sexual (yes, I’ll use the word preference, because it is. I prefer men. So do many men. It’s not a disease. It’s a preference.) preference into public discussion on a regular basis is, to me, cheapening the tenderness of the moment. It’s not just about sex, after all.
There’s three examples, alone, that stick out in my mind. Oh, follow-up? That friend at the restaurant? About 7 months after he told me I didn’t want to hear about the gorey details of his sexual act because he was gay…he was attacked in our restaurant. I found my fist in the attacker’s face before two of the other employees…both men…pinned down the perp. I called the police, and stood as witness at the trial. The guy was put in jail.
That’s how much I hated him for being gay. Of course, those who want a fight will tell me that I did that because I didn’t think a “fairy” would be able to defend himself. Guess what, folks? I’m 5’1" tall. Not exactly the epitome of strong. I just was ANGRY that a FRIEND was being hurt.
Who gives a fuck what his sex life is?
