Gaydar Signet-ure

Straight Guy

A friend and I sat next to each other at a work retreat yesterday. At the end of the day, she asked me if I thought that one of the presenters is gay. I'm not completely certain either way, but I suspect that he's straight. She thinks he's straight, too, but admitted that her gaydar isn't as finely attuned as mine.

My gaydar went off only at a low decible, but I did check him out. The first thing I look for is a wedding ring. No ring on his wedding finger. Score a few points there. I finally decided that he's not gay -- nothing conclusive went off.

But, I'm not willing to write him off completely. On his right hand, he wears a signet ring. Very suspicious.

My friend had seen the signet ring, too, and it put a small dent in her confidence in his straightness.

--Gay Guy

Gay Guy Sick

Gay Guy is suddenly sick. First I thought my muscles hurt because of spinning class last night. But, fever, chills, overheated, hurt everywhere, later, rinse and repeat.

Trying to fall asleep by watching Legally Blonde. So far, no luck.

--Gay Guy

Digi Dad Decision Makers

Readers,

Straight Guy is away this week on a family vacation. Ironically, he's missing a story that's right up his alley.

As you might have deduced from reading the blog, SG has more of a pop culture orientation, and is interested in any kind of entertainment/informational technology. And, GG . . . well, not so much.

So, SG was the first person I thought of when I listened to this story this morning on Marketplace from American Public Radio. Listen to the Marketplace sound file, read the transcript and related stories.

To quote from the story transcript: "Sony has launched a new marketing site. It's targeted to dads who read parenting blogs. Sony's wading into some murky waters here, given the criticism that some Mommy bloggers have gotten lately for reviewing products they got for free, and not disclosing that fact. Sony says it's beyond all that."

I'm not interested in the ethical problems of promotional products for prose scheme. I'm interested in dads who read parenting blogs, because most parenting blogs make SG furious -- he says they cast straight men as man-child bumblers. No comments from me about straight men as man-child bumblers; I just talk about gay men as man-child bumblers.

More from the Marketplace piece: "What we're seeing with the rise of the Daddy blogs is there are some areas where men are the real decision makers. Gaming systems is clearly one of those. We'll see a little bit more emphasis on gadgets of all kinds. And, oh, by the way, cars too."

Gaming systems, gadgets, cars: three things that I could not care less about. I keep falling into traditional gay stereotypes, and it's tiresome. SG is pretty much on decision making targets: While I don't think SG cares much about cars, he could write a kick-ass blog about gaming systems and home entertainment systems. He's certainly my go-to guy for all things electronic.

So, what kind of consumer blog would I write, if I were to write one, to reflect my prowestt as a "real decision maker?" Here's what people ask me for help with:

-- Clothes (gay)
-- Restaurant recommendations (gay)
-- Vacation tips, especially hotels (gay)
-- Book theater, and movie reviews (nondenominational/curious at best)

I'd like to think that my interests and talents are three dimensional, but maybe not. This doesn't make me feel like a "male decision maker." What else am I good at? My friends tell me that I help them think through their problems in valuable ways. I don't really dispense directive advice, unless specifially asked, but I do like to tease out multiple perspectives. That's a talent, right? I give good directions and have good map skills. That's pretty straight, right?

But, cars? No. Gadgets? Only if you include kitchen gadgets.

--Gay Guy

I Like Guys

Straight Guy,

Since you are on the road, I doubt you were able to listen to This American Life today for a repeat of this decade-plus-old story, I Like Guys, by David Sedaris. When you get back, give it a listen. Or read it in Sedaris' collection Naked, though nothing compares to listening to his voice.

Faggots, a drunk football coach/math teacher, nervous tics, camp loathing, bathroom issues, accordions -- it's packed.

I love Saturday radio; it's a wonder that I ever get out of the apartment.

--Gay Guy

Harrison Ford: (Don't) Take My Wife. Please.

Hmmm. Maybe his non Star Wars and Indiana Jones character choices have been rather limiting.

--Straight Guy

Gaydar Check Needed on Tailgate Party Antics

Many mixed messages here. Looks like a typical straight guy taligate keg party. A few of them are wearing football jerseys, so let's assume that's the backstory. But...

Dancing and airhumping to Euro disco in wet t-shirts?

And, was that one guy wearing a poncho or serape?

There's a girl or two in the crowd but still a little too much man-love for this straight guy.

--Straight Guy

Gay/Straight Comedy Debate: What Are You Laughing At?

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Our stats showed a lot of traffic on our post earlier this week about Gay Guy/Straight Guy dessert faves. So here's another guy-on-guy . . . err. . . blogger-on-blogger . . . survey on a favorite topic for both of us -- movies.

Is it surprising that the results of the survey show that, if we've both seen it, we tend to both like it? No big surprise that we both love Young Frankenstein and Blazing Saddles. We never talked about it, but I'm not surprised that Spinal Tap is an SG fave, but would he have suspected that South Park would end up in my '"likes" quad?

We both have films to add to our NetFlix lists. Clearly there was about a decade where we did not cross paths in the movie theater.

Straight Guy and I don't make enough time to get to the movies together. Humpday is still hanging around, and maybe we can hit that. I know I couldn't drag you to Julie and Julia even with the promise of an extra large box of Milk Duds. But, a new version of Fame is due out in a month and we WILL be there.

--Gay Guy

Straight Guy's Mix Tapes: Goodbye to You

Gay Guy,

Sad times here at Casa del SG. I've been cleaning out the basement bit by bit over the last few weeks and have been trying to purge some of the stuff that's accumulated down there over the years. Most of it won't be missed. But, I'm having a hard time saying goodbye to my collection of cassette tapes.

I'm part of that narrow slice of Gen X: the cassette generation. Post LP but pre CD. Oh, how we were duped. Deprived of LP cover art and of the pristine sound quality of CDs, what did we get? Well, we were the first to enjoy the simple thrill of popping the music right into the dashboard (or walkman) and listening on the way home. And rewinding to just the right spot -- oops, wait -- there it is! -- and listening again. That's something, I guess. Otherwise it's just a lot of hiss and lame Dolby NR options that never really worked anyway. But I loved music and craved convenience, so did I really have any choice?

I still have hundreds of them, loosely organized in plastic bins. Some store-bought classics, many guilty pleasures, and a few selections best classified as "what the hell was I thinking?" (Looking at you, Shalamar.) Throw in a few cassingles from the one-hit wonders, just to round things out.

There's also a bin dedicated to mix-tapes, the hard currency of friendship in the 1980s. These might be the hardest to part with. Can't classify it as an art (a la High Fidelity), but making a tape for someone was a kind of craft. It took a whole afternoon or evening of selecting songs and carefully ordering the playlist, recording in real time, monitoring the levels, and stressing over the pauses between each selection. So, maybe we got a little conceited in the process. Our sensibilities were never as sophisticated as we thought at the time -- no minds were ever technically "blown" by my audio expertise, anyway. But we did it because we cared. I doubt many kids today would take the time to express themselves that way. Why would they, with blogs, facebook, and text-messaging at their disposal? They don't lack the tools to let everyone know what they think and how they feel. We had to be slightly more subtle, and let Lou Reed, Chrissie Hynde, James Taylor, and Stevie Wonder do the talking.

OK. Trying not to dwell, here. I don't have a tape deck anymore, and for the most part love my iPod lifestyle. Some of the artists have migrated with me, others have been left behind (where have you gone, Hoodoo Gurus?). The vast majority of those tapes have gone unused for over 10 years now. I'd like to find a good home for them, because it's hard to throw away Abbey Road, no matter what the format. But I also have a hard time believing that my local library would want a copy of the album where Eddie Murphy sings with sincerity.

Do I wish that timing had been better and all of my collection was on CD? Sure. The really sad part is that as the format loses value, all the tapes become equally worthless. On cassette, the Talking Heads, Elvis Costello, and early Prince are dragged down to the level of Scritti Polliti, Billy Vera, and The Force MDs. Now that's a shame.

Even though I probably spent thousands of dollars building this now-worthless collection, it's the free mix-tapes that are hardest to let go. Any advice?

--Straight Guy

P.S. Check out this interesting NYT graphic on music format popularity, indicating cassette sales peaking in the late 80s, just when my appetite for music was also at its peak. As a tribute to those cassettes now headed for the dumpster, I'll finish with this nostalgically appropriate tribute... "such a pity to say goodbye to you..."

Gay/Straight Dessert Debate: Check Out Our Quads!

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Here's a little gayguystraightguy survey data. Nothing universal, just me vs him. I guess it's no surprise that GG's refined palette appreciates tiramisu, creme brulee, and Godiva chocolates. I, however, am easily satisfied by selections available at the boardwalk, ballpark, and/or county fair.

Can't we all just get along? Yes. We found common ground (and cost-effective satisfation) in Snickers candy bars. Apple and key lime pies were also more than acceptable to both of us.

Cheesecake is lonely in the middleground. No love, no hate. Neither gay nor straight.

Readers, where do you fit in this tasty mix? Are you craving flan or Little Debbie? Anything we forgot?

--Straight Guy

Things Straight Guy Hates Immediately: The Sun Road Dance

Gay Guy,

Just yesterday we were talking about the blog and I commented that I had to write some fun-loving, positive posts. That maybe even I was tiring of the grumpy character that I often fall into. Yeah, I'm honest (mostly) about how I feel, but it's also easy... easier to snark on the annoying than to really open up about something that inspires or delights (wow, almost NEVER use that word).

I promise I'll work on that. Soon. But not right now.

What the hell is this?

Supposedly, this is the "Sun Road Dance," part of a performance series "intended to capture the spirit and essence of our great national parks through the arts."

This is the essence of Glacier National Park? Not even close. I can tell from a single pose that I don't like it, and am guessing I would be irked rather than entertained by the whole number.

No. No. No. Don't tell me that the incongruity IS the point. That's not going to cut it. He can wear his tuxedo in the desert, jungle, and ocean too, for all I care. It won't work. The mountain views in Montana are beyond beautiful. There is no need to sprinkle our creative impulses from peak to valley to try to make it more so. That's just noise at best, and at worst, another kind of pollution.

The emotional and intellectual impact of visiting a remote national park is in stripping yourself of pretense and ego. To appreciate nature on its terms, not your own. And to feel small and insignificant, which, surprisingly, is a great way to let the worry and drama of your day-to-day fade away.

I've been to Montana many times. I've hiked some of these trails. Often, when struck by the profound beauty of the vistas and animals, I recognize that I am in a moment that could be a million years old. That I am the most "unnatural" thing to pass that way in a long while.

I've never thought: Where's my red cummerbund? I'm holding in a dance that needs to be released and recorded!

I'm a liberal and an arts lover. Hey, I found this in today's Style section before I even opened the news and sports pages. But I've admitted that I'm not much for modern interpretive dance. Maybe I'd have more of an open mind about it, if it weren't for stuff like this.

Look, I know that to have a vibrant arts scene, there has to be room for the experimental, the un-understandable, and, at times, the offensive. I don't want to strip this guy of his grants. I want more than celebrity dance-offs and MTV hip-hop dance crew battles. So, here's my problem: I can't define the line between "interpretive" and "indulgent" dance, but for me, it's clearly been crossed in the photo above.

Choreographer, dancer, and cinematographer Trey McIntyre, of the Trey McIntyre Project (did I say self indulgent or self important?) claims that he was initially skeptical of the concept, but charged ahead anyway. "There is a certain absurdity, not meant to be comic, about somebody in a tuxedo in the middle of the woods," he says, "I wanted to find out what it means when those two elements coexist, what that struggle means."

Wow, I agree with him. It's not comic. Too bad. I would have given funny a chance. Elements struggling to co-exist? Whatever, dude. Otherwise, this exercise only "means" that a few hikers came upon this nonsense and were denied, however briefly, the opportunity to see Glacier on its own terms.

Wonder what the bears made of this. Were they entertained by dancers in red? Or appetized by brightly wrapped snacks?

--Straight Guy

P.S.: GG, I realize that, because you have tickets to just about everything, you might be in attendance. If so, I hope my uninformed pre-review enhances your evening, and that I'm wrong about everything.

Readers, I'm trying to avoid dance-related sexual stereotypes, so I'll ask this way: Is there something about interpretive dance that (many? most? some?) straight guys just don't "get"?

GAY GUY RESPONDS:

SG:

Wonder what the bears made of the interpretive dance performance? Sadly, not lunch. Apparently, they were insufficiently hungry, excessively polite, or just overwhelmed. The mean part of me says, "Please DO feed the bears."

I know I should be an equal opportunity arts lover, but no go here. I'm ready to partake in just about anything, look at photography and painting, listen to a lot of music, but, counter to expected stereotypes (gay = gotta dance!), draw the line at performance art and dance, especially interpretive dance.

For a few months a few years ago, I dated a guy who booked dance groups for arts centers. Big name groups. So, I was (fortunate enough) able to see a lot of famous dance groups. It was sometimes painful. I'd like to think I appreciate all art forms, but dance usually makes me uncomfortable. There is something that doesn't feel natural about it. I can admire some of the technical athleticism in it, and can certainly admire the physicality of the dancers -- at least those who don't like like they won't break in two before my very eyes. There's just something about it that feels indulgent.

Does this make me a bad arts lover? What's my problem?

I'm sympathetic to your argument that other artists can take something from nature, distill it, and then create something that presents a point of view informed by memory. This dance project and projects like Christo and his bed sheets across the country don't work for me.

I just came back from hiking in the Redwoods. Early this summer was Virginia's Shenandoah, last year was Yosemite. Next year I hope for Yellowstone, Glacier or Zion. What makes those trips so compelling his how those place -- I might even say sacred places -- have an impact ON me, not how I have an impact ON it. Being reminded that I am but a blip in the span of the world is freeing, not discouraging.

Remember the park Golden Rule: Leave only footprints, take only memories and photos.

I guess that interpretive dance is like my question about Mt. Rushmore: Who looks at a gorgeous, sacred place and sees the heads of presidents?

As a final note, a friend of mine had a free spirit of a dad. At the dad's funeral one of the prayers was performed through interpretive dance. It took some strengths to keep my lips from twitching. At the post-funeral reception, I asked the deceased's sister, a 70-something year old woman renowned for her mercilessly honest observations of things, what she thought of the dance. After a thoughtful pause, she answered, in a deadpan, somewhat world-weary voice: "Well, HE would have loved it."

The perfect answer is also a thing of beauty, and needs no interpretation.

--Gay Guy