Roger O Green

Growing up gay (as it were)

I have only smidgen of understanding what it must have been like to be gay in the 1960s and 1970s.

How do you think growing up gay today is different than growing up gay in the past?

Well, since I never grew up gay, it’s kind of tricky to say. But I’ll try.

In my collective of high school cohorts, the politically involved, left-of-center, antiwar demonstrating, civil rights supporting folks, we formed a club called the Community Action Forum. But outside of school, we were friends called Holiday Unlimited, and our motto was “a splendid time is guaranteed for all, stolen from the Sgt. Pepper album.

In our group of maybe a dozen and a half people, at least three of them were gay, but I only knew about one of them, Vito Mastrogiovanni, at the time, and mostly because my sister had such a crush on him that he, or someone, let her know. She was sad because she thought he was so beautiful, and he was. He died of AIDS in May 1991, and you can find his square on the AIDS quilt.

The others who were gay, though, I had no idea. I felt a tad sad that they didn’t feel comfortable telling me, yet I understood.

I go to college, and my next room neighbor, who was gay, was openly hostile to me. I think it was a preemptive strike. Blacks were considered threatening to gay males in 1971, or so I was told. But I had a couple of lesbian friends; in fact, one, Alice, with whom I was once arrested at an antiwar demonstration, was roommates with the Okie for a time before the Okie and I got married.

Alice and I hitchhiked across New York State, trying to get to some friends who had been injured in a fatal car accident. One guy picked us up west of Binghamton, then gave us a lecture about the sins of race-mixing, assuming us to be a couple. I could only imagine what he might have said if he had known of her sexual orientation.

I dropped out of college in 1975 and lived in Binghamton for several months. The Civic Theater was doing a production of Boys in the Band, a 1968 play, but radical for upstate New York. The cast hung out together, and I discovered there was a gay bar in Binghamton; I had no idea. We got to be a tight-knit group for that period.

The review of the production made it sound as though the whole cast was gay, which frankly didn’t bother me, but it upset one of my high school friends, who said to another, “Too bad about Roger!” “What about Roger?” “He’s gay!” “He’s not gay!”

So I have only a smidgen of understanding what it must have been like to be gay in the 1960s and 1970s.

Because gays weren’t invented until 1969, or so you were supposed to believe. And it was only a handful of “them” so it was somehow OK to discriminate against gays, threaten them, use terms about them as barbs even against people who were not gay. And AIDS was “God’s scourge” against gays, though there were plenty of straight people getting the disease too.

So how we went from having a whole lot of closeted gay folks, for understandable reasons, to legal marriage for gay people in about a dozen and a half states in the last decade or two is remarkable. I was in a discussion with a blogger who is gay (not Arthur) back in 2006 or 2007, and he didn’t think the issue of marriage equality was that big a deal, quite probably because he had had a bad breakup. But marriage IS a big deal. It’s a fundamental ceremony of society. The POPE is considering the acceptance of civil unions, for crying out loud. Oh, here’s a joke about marriage equality that I actually found to be clever.

Rewatched the Oprah Winfrey Show episode recently in which Ellen Degeneres talked about coming out in 1997, and I was reminded how it was a BFD. Now she’s a popular talk show host, Oscars host, Twitter breaker, and dancing fool.

I think this article about Fred Phelps is true. When the hatemonger first started his picketing, few opposed his poison. But over time, the crowds against the Westboro Baptist Church grew and grew, people standing up and saying we’re not all like that. This is why I say, all the time because I’m a boring guy, that gays need straight allies in the struggle for equality, just as blacks need whites, etc. The “gay agenda” I keep reading about, a lot, is the very freedom everyone wants.

So while there is still plenty of things to overcome – check out the Human Right Campaign, e.g. – today’s LGBT teens must have it a sea change easier than gay kids in decades past.

PS: Boycott Mississippi.
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Those HoneyMaid ads.

Amy’s How to “Recruit” Straight People: A Guide

Fridays in Lent: The Life of Brian

The character Brian is CLEARLY not Jesus, established very early on.

One does forget that not everybody is aware of certain cultural icons. On one hand, I cannot name a single Justin Bieber song off the top of my head. Couldn’t tell you the identity of a single member of One Direction, even though I saw them on some morning show this past summer while getting physical therapy.

On the other hand, one of my colleagues, who’s in her early 30s, made a casual reference to the 1979 Monty Python film The Life of Brian in front of one of our interns, who’s probably in her mid-20s. No glint of recognition whatsoever.

So I sent her a snippet that always makes me laugh, What have the Romans ever done for us, and that classic tune Always Look on the Bright Side of Life, a song that pretty much ended the London Olympics in 2012.

The controversy over this movie at the time of release continues to amaze/amuse me. The character Brian is CLEARLY not Jesus, established very early on. Yes, there WERE other would-be messiahs in Jesus’ time. I just bought this movie on DVD in the last year or two and will have to watch it again soon. Maybe not next week, but soon.

Not liking music?

“Sing lustily, and with a good courage. Beware of singing as if you were half dead, or half asleep; but lift up your voice with strength.”

A half dozen years ago, someone posted this to Yahoo! Answers:
“I don’t like music. At all. Any of it. Does this have a name? To me, music is an intrusive noise. It gets in the way of my thoughts and prevents my structuring a sentence.”

She goes on complaining that others try to share different types of music, but her reaction is the same. Some of the folks answering her find this either bizarre or else they too do suggest she hasn’t been exposed to the right kind of music.

But now, researchers say that some people lack the ability to get pleasure from music. There’s even a fancy phrase for it: “specific musical anhedonia.” Of course, I find it a little odd, but we’re all constructed differently.

There is even a musical reward questionnaire out there. I was slightly disappointed that all my answers were in the “normal” range for music enjoyment (40 to 60), with “social” being the highest, with a 59.

Jaquandor did one of his random Wednesday conversation starters a few weeks back: “How much do you sing? Publicly? In a choir, or solo? Only at home amongst friends? Only in the car or the shower?” I was really sad to read one response:

Never. When I was 10 years old I was told not to sing in church. We were doing some kind of Christmas thing and each Sunday school class was going to sing in front of the church. The Sunday school teacher kept trying coach me and finally gave up and told me to just move my lips. I guess that warped me for life because it’s been many years since I’ve even felt like singing.

I thought this was terrible! Someone sucked the joy of singing right out of this person’s life, and at such an early age.

As a former Methodist and long-time choir member, I am well aware of John Wesley’s Rules for Singing (1761), my favorite of which is this:

“Sing lustily, and with a good courage. Beware of singing as if you were half dead, or half asleep; but lift up your voice with strength. Be no more afraid of your voice now, nor more ashamed of it being heard, then when you sing the songs of Satan.”

Tittynope, or ort, and poor Lazarus

The story is not describing the rich man in hell and damnation, but like the leadership of the synagogue in Jesus’ time, “Stiff-necked” people separated from God. Lazarus represents the world open to hearing the Word.

As is my wont, I checked out the Grandiloquent Word of the Day, which, for a day in late February, was tittynope. The term was SO peculiar that I had to check it in another source. And sure enough – “Tittynope: (noun) a small quantity of anything left over, whether a few beans on a dinner plate or the dregs at the bottom of a cup.”

My old friend Hadiya – she’s not that old, but… – asked if it was related to the word ort. I’d say, definitionally, yes.

Usually, orts. a scrap or morsel of food left at a meal. Origin: 1400–50; late Middle English; cognate with Low German ort, early Dutch oorete; compare Old English or- out-, ǣt food (see eat).

The girl in the Grandiloquent pic looks satisfied, but that’s not the image the word generated for me. Rather, it was perhaps a Dickensian beggar; nope, no food for you. Or even more so, that story of poor Lazarus in Luke 16:

19 There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. 20 At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores 21 and longing to eat what fell from the rich man’s table.

OK, it’s less the story I read, but rather the narrative I’ve heard (my church youth group, twice), and participated in (1976), from Godspell. Here’s a random clip that I found on YouTube, and another clip.

And in looking for these videos, I came across this 30-minute description of how the story of the rich man and Lazarus has long been misinterpreted. Basically, the presenter, Jason Lucas, indicates that the imagery in the parables is speaking to the Pharisees (the “righteous” Jewish leadership) and the Gentiles (the “heathen” sinners) to suggest that God’s word is now open to all, not just the historically chosen people, spoken in code as so not to alert the Romans, who just want to maintain the peace, but is clearly understood by the Pharisees.

Before addressing that story, Lucas described a previous parable, the “Prodigal Son”, and noted that the older brother in the story is Israel, the long-chosen people, and the younger brother, who literally ate with the pigs, is the rest of the world, whose covenant with the father (Father) is even more exciting because it is new.

The Lazarus story, the video suggests, is not describing the rich man in hell and damnation, but like the leadership of the synagogue in Jesus’ time, “stiff-necked” people separated from God. Lazarus represents the world open to hearing the Word. Lucas’ point here echoes Simon Perry, who:

has argued that the parable of the Rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31) refers to Eliezer of Damascus. In [Genesis] 15:4, God says to Abraham, “this man will not be your heir.” By locating Lazarus (an abbreviated transcript of Eleazar) outside the gates of Abraham’s perceived descendant, but then having him in Abraham’s bosom, Jesus is portrayed as radically redefining the covenant.

This take on the story makes a LOT more sense to me than the traditional interpretation.

Movies, music, romance

I once got a standing ovation playing a comb, seriously.

MDS of Pantheon Songs wonders:

What are some movies that are generally considered to be classics that you found to be just terrible/boring/ridiculous?

I fell asleep watching Citizen Kane on video; in general, I prefer seeing a film first on the big screen. But that lapse was probably because I was tired. The only film during which I ever fell asleep at a movie theater, excluding drive-in double features, was Empire of the Sun (1987), and again, maybe I was just fatigued.

I didn’t love either The Royal Tennenbaums or Lost in Translation, but this may be a function of seeing them after hearing too much hype. Or I was in a bad mood. Or tired.

Nothing, I guess, fits the bill.
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Tom the Mayor asks:

Are you worried about Lydia when she gets to the age of Dating?

I was watching a performance of The Lion King that Lydia was in on March 2. There’s a scene where Nala, played by the pastors’ daughter, was being sized up by the evil king Scar. And the male pastor, who was fairly near me, got rather physically tense until Nala slapped Scar and got away.

So sure, I suppose it’s an issue. Don’t know what she’ll face, and kids seem to have more ways to be mean.

Also don’t know what dating will mean to a mixed-race kid these days, though you assume the world is better than this being a problem.
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This must mean it’s New York Erratic time again:

What skill has gotten you the most girls? (Thinking clean, like music and singing and whatnot).

My guess is that I can be a very good listener. I was often friends with women I ended up going out with. Someone long ago told me that steering the conversation to be about the other person tends to make them feel good, and not just in romantic settings.

Though I know I did wow someone with my air guitar of Smoke On The Water.

What musical instruments do you play? Which do you wish you played?

I don’t play any instruments. That’s technically not true; I’ve played the comb. In public, including several times as part of the Green Family Singers. I once got a standing ovation playing the blues on a comb in Manlius, NY c 1970, seriously.

I wish I could play piano; I took a year of it when I was about 12, but I just didn’t have the chops. Or guitar; my father played and taught my sister Leslie in about a month, but I couldn’t get it.

What subject in school did you find the most difficult?

College freshman calculus. No idea what I was doing. And I did so well in high school math, with a 97 in algebra, 86 in geometry, and 98 in trigonometry; I would have done better in geometry, except memorizing proofs I thought was dumb.

First calc test I get a 73, the second 56, the third 37. I needed a passing grade on the final. I crammed for two days, sleeping maybe a total of four hours. Got a C on the final, a C in the course. Two weeks later, I looked at my textbook and did not understand a thing.

Which places on Earth you do NOT want to go to?

There are so many. Places that are too hot and sticky, and/or have too many insects; e.g. the Amazon. Places that are too cold, I mean below freezing even in summer; e.g., Antarctica. Places that are too remote because I like people; e.g., some cabin in the remote Rockies. Places that are too crowded because I don’t like people THAT much; e.g. Calcutta.

There is still time to Ask Roger Anything.