If You Could Take a Pill...

If you could take a pill that would instantly turn you into a mainstream gay, would you?

For myself, the answer is indubitably "yes." I have led a miserable life in this lifestyle that isn't even a recognized lifestyle. No longer would I be tortured by having to listen to rock music -- I could happily dance my life away to Hi-NRG, high on ecstacy. No longer would I have to be content with raggedy thrift-store clothing -- I would automatically become a charter member of International Male. I could wear that Jimmy Somerville haircut, and spend my time moisturizing my face. I wouldn't have to spend my time feeling guilty about not being caught up with my zine mail, because I wouldn't do a zine anymore. Instead, I'd be spending all my time at the gym.

Alas, I can never join that happy lifestyle, since no such pill exists. I will forever be pressing my moist little nose against the window of mainstream gay culture.

I can't read the minds of mainstream gays. What do they think about in their spandex-clad minds? Millions of them appear from nowhere on there's-a-word-missing-here pride day, and I wonder where they are the rest of the year. No doubt crowding the discos that I never venture into. I'm so above all that. Not into the bar scene, as the personal ads say.

Not that I'm above going to straight-people bars to see my favorite indie rock bands which I've been informed are cool by my favorite indie-rock fanzines (or a hot tip from the o-so-cool internet.) But maybe if gay bars would learn how to have some live music they could sell me a few shirley temples.

The only time I seem to venture into gay bars is when I have out-of-town guests who insist on dragging me out for a night at the bars. There's a certain rock-n-roll fag bar here in San Francisco that plays music and has motorcycle parking out front and is filled with pierced and tattoed folks. But somehow I have the feeling that it's all an act, and these people still listen to Madonna when they get home. Or maybe I've been so used to being alienated that I've fallen into the trap of being self-marginalizing.

This is such a typical Larry-bob rant, in that I've drifted off topic into doing bar reviews. C'mon Larry, thesis, thesis!

As I was saying a couple paragraphs back, I'm mystified by mainstream gays. What do they want? Are they really stupid, or do they just have to act that way to fit in? Are they redeemable? Should someone open an ex-gay clinic where the first step is to make the "clients" listen to Tribe 8 all day long until they snap and renounce disco?

It should be a residential facility, just like the one run by Exodus. Exodus forbids its inmates from venturing into San Francisco, and I'm afraid we'd have to make the Castro off-limits in the same spirit. A little aversion therapy involving Bob and Rod photo books and electric current (sad to say, Bob and Rod are getting a divorce.) But of course, like Exodus, we'd probably be plagued by stories of our leaders sneaking off to go shopping in the Castro and dancing at Pleasuredome.

Somehow, I think there's more hope of turning a mainstream gay into a real freak than vice-versa. But it's still pretty darn unlikely.


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