pssst...

My gaydar is broken. It has failed me in spectacular fashion. And I’m so embarrassed. For decades it has been as reliable as a Rolex. Then with no warning, it broke. So I have taken it to Homo Depot for a tune up.

Until it’s repaired all you family, and friends of Dorothy out there, are just going to have to help me out. Could you wear red shirts like Gay Day at Disney so I can recognize you? Don’t want you to think I’m stuck up or something. Or if you don’t look good in red maybe you can just shoot me the secret signal, handshake, or say the password. You know the ones.

Tuna Girl’s post about educating her mom about gays reminded me of my experiences with my mom. After I came out, my mom had a million questions. I finally had to make a game out of it, yank her chain a little.

Mom: So how do ya’ll tell know if someone’s gay? Do you wear something special?
Ray:*sigh* Well, a guy in a dress is a good tip off. But a pink polo shirt is the real signal. Any guy in a pink polo shirt is gay.
Mom: (long pause) Thanks for telling me. I was going to buy your father a pink polo shirt for his birthday.
Ray: Get him cologne, Mom.

My mother’s education about homohood peaked when I took her to a gay bar. She loved it. And I must say, it seemed everyone in the bar loved her. Mom was quite the most popular person there that afternoon. She pestered me for ages after that. “When are you and BC going to take me to another gay bar?” And I would mumbled “Just as soon as I can find you a pink polo shirt, Mom.”

Anyway, I’ll let you know when my gaydar is fixed. See, I was wrong. It turns out that Garden Boy is gay after all. But that’s the subject of a later post.