A quest to make sense of it all. Or a sense to make a quest of it all.

Thursday, December 02, 2010

Fags.

Another event from last night.

So Brandon got me addicted to Glee. I spread the fanatacism to Katie and Co., my parents, and my California relatives. Megan remains steadfastly uninterested, but I'll convert her eventually.

My parents purchased the first season on dvd, and we all worked our way through it together in, like, two weeks with Katie and Rachel. We made big nights out of it with lots of junk food. (Which is not lame at all.) So we were all really happy about the second season starting. I continue to be happy with it, but my folks announced last night, when catching up on a few dvr'd episodes I'd already seen, that they've had enough.

The reasoning? "It got too gay and preachy."

I just slowly nodded and wandered back into the kitchen, which, in Hebrew, means "place of peace". Or that may be Shiloh. I spread some herbed chevre on a cracker and nibbled, debating whether to go back into the living room and pick a fight. Over Glee.

Well, shit, I wasn't doing anything else.

I sauntered back into the living room and stood there for a minute, waiting for acknowledgement of my presence so we could begin. The temperature had dropped ten degrees. I casually asked if they no longer enjoyed the music. My Dad, being the default spokesman in All Disagreements Concerning Political/Social Issues, said:

"It's just so in-your-face with all the gay stuff."
"Are you referring to Kurt? You liked Kurt."
"He's not funny anymore! The cheerleaders were better as mean cheerleaders. Now they're lesbian cheerleaders. It's no fun."
(Aside: I am so grateful to The Universe that he said this. Had my father said anything about having a fondness for lesbian cheerleaders, I would have vomited up the last of my sanity and retreated into a cave to hop around like Gollum. So thanksss, Universsse. I owe you.)

I agreed that I didn't like how the last few episodes that featured Kurt seemed to be all about his orientation, but only because I thought it was insulting to portray him as one-dimensioned. It's just as obnoxious to portray someone's sexual preference as being their defining characteristic as it is to knock that person based on that characteristic. He responded that that wasn't it, it was just that Kurt's gayness had gotten so serious. Particularly a couple episodes back when the show took on the issue of gay-bullying in high schools. I said that that was a great episode, and totally relevant and current. I reminded him that the episode aired shortly after a string of bullying-related suicides had cropped up in the news. He said he didn't think it was right to be preachy about it.

So it's ok when a fag acts like a buffoon and prances around, because that makes you laugh, but it's not ok if he stands up to someone shoving him in a locker?

My blood began to boil and I went back to the kitchen. Not in defeat, really, but because we've been at this stalemate for years.

I love my parents tremendously. They are wonderful, kind, brilliant people. But they both have this weird way of thinking about these things that I just can't fathom. I don't know how many times my mother and I have sat on the porch and began a casual conversation about gay marriage that ends in one or both of us slamming a door or getting red in the face. I don't understand how they can be so against something that doesn't affect them in the slightest, like it's an affront to their straightness somehow. I don't understand how these two people who are so incredibly whip-smart in every other aspect, can accept my best friend and refer to him as their adopted son, genuinely love him, but be ok with the fact that he can't marry whoever he wants. Like breeders should have a monopoly on formally declared love and legal benefits. What the hell is marriage, anyway? Don't ask a straight person. Statistically, over half of us have no dog in the sanctity race, having already put asunder our own unions. Even if you really believe that someone is hellbound for finding their connection with someone who owns similar naughty bits, no one's asking you to go gay. Just let other people live as they please, for Pearl's sake. Thankfully, my parents aren't of the crazyass crew who say things like, "Well, it's just a slippery slope 'til we let people marry kids or their pets!". Ugh. Comparing a consensual relationship between adults to child abuse is so screwed up I don't want to know how anyone arrives at such a statement. I digress.

Anyway, sometimes it's just really hard to relate to the people who love you more than anyone on the planet. I respect them so much, and I love them unoconditionally, despite this constant disagreement. I enjoy a good debate as much as the next girl, but I hate seeing them get legitimately upset, and I don't like getting upset like that, either. I wonder if they look at me and think, "Where did we go wrong? How did her thinking get so backwards?". Probably. And they were remarkably cool about it when one night, back in high school, I blurted out during Survivor that I thought I may be bi. We just haven't brought up their feelings on my preferences since. It's a nonissue, like I had never said anything.

Just rambling. It'll never get resolved.

I totally took out the rest of that chevre.

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