I am sure it is my age, but there is a lot of the public expression of gay culture that no longer appeals to me. Some of it never did, but it at least did not bother me and I would even stand up for it. I am less inclined to do so now. It is a younger man's world in many ways. Fine with me. And so much of it plays with gender-bending in a way that puts me off.
But I wrote to friend today:
I will forever be grateful to have been bornat a time where I could learn, at a deep level,that my passion for other men is not a crimeor an illness, but a gift. And I owe that toso many people who have formed and foughtfor the gay community. I did my share, too.
I am watching William Friedkin's very dark 1980 film, "Cruising". A view of the gay male leather and S/M scene in New York in the 1970s. Post-Stonewall, pre-AIDS. Sex and bloody murder and Al Pacino. Dionysos and Hades.
If I hear one more rant about gay marriage, I will start drinking heavy liquor.
The man who has become my magnetic north is far away this weekend. Last year, he was here for this weekend and we were together, doing what this is all about.
He just called me from Istanbul, across the street from Hagia Sophia. Joked that he could still read the Latin graffiti I carved into the door in 1973. Meant more to me than the speeches down the street.
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