Thanks to Kaylyn for making me laugh today and for reminding me that if someone doesn't realize I'm a big ol' queer within about 10 seconds of meeting me, there is something seriously wrong with them. Boy. My poor mother. She must shake her head at my brothers and me sometimes and think, "Sheesh, IS it me? Are all those stereotypical stories about boys and single mothers and runaway dads true?"
Examples of Mom's children being "artsy" (a.ka. effeminate or sorta-kinda girly):
*When my dad used to ask me to go outside with him to throw around the football, I'd whine and say
JEM was on. I think I've mentioned this in a previous post, but I couldn't help but throw it out there once again. I used to think I was meant to be a pink-haired rock star -- or ballerina. One time there was a ballet on TV and I twirled around the living room, on the hardware floor, in my socks....until I slipped and fell and clacked my chin on the floor and cut it open. I still have the scar to prove it. Jordan has me beat, though; he used to put socks on his hands and wear nothing else but his tightie-whities and do flips on the couch cushions like he was a Misfit Superhero.
*A.J. Beckert, my old childhood friend, would get embarrassed whenever I wore my purple shirt with the dancing cartoon unicorn on the front of it. He'd say things like, "Do you have to wear that shirt?....Isn't this other shirt, um, cooler?...." I'd get all flustered and angry at him while flitting around with my limp wrists.
*Jordan and I once crouched at the top of the second floor staircase in Lemont. I remember the lights being off, it was very ghost-like, and this glowy yellow light sifted up the stairs to us. Dad had put his foot down and wouldn't let me get a Hawaiian Barbie. Jordan and I were waxing poetically about the injustice of it all; we wanted to find a way to smuggle two Hawaiian Barbies into the house past our father.
*On a related note, I must mention that in third grade I was very jealous of Anne Van Meter when she got her Cabbage Patch Kid. I begged and begged for one, and finally got Gabe (or Page, I can't remember the little guy's name....still have him, though. He sits--kinda abused--by my computer while I write.) Funny, I don't quite recall getting my Cabbage Patch Kid, but I remember Anne getting hers. Her father plucked it out of a paper shopping bag (maybe it was in with the real cabbage?). And I recall that MTV was on--back in its infant years--and Tears for Fears' "Shout" was on and I just thought that video was
so cool. Total Tangent: Anne Van Meter was the first girl I asked out. We were in the St. Patrick's parking lot, which doubled as a playground. I went up to her and asked if she'd like to go bowling (!) sometime. She of course looked at me like I'd sprouted horns or turned into Sloth from
Goonies, and then ran and told everyone. We weren't quite so close after that! Total Tangent #2: Do any of you remember that whole craze with Cabbage Patch Kids? I saw a clip on the news back then, showing all these parents waiting in line, and how one dad had actually hit another dad with a baseball bat to get the last one in stock at some store! Wow. Parental love meets pop culture. What a nightmare.
*Jordan and Aaron did not like to behave in church. They'd kick their legs and bicker and whatnot. One time my mom brought them their My Little Ponies so they'd be quiet, and stay distracted. We had to stand in the back of St. Alphonsus's Church because mass was packed, and Jordan and Aaron knelt down and made their My Little Ponies dance and prance and play together.
*All the kids in the neighborhood came over to watch the very first episode of
She-Ra: Princess of Power. I think that was my first "movie marathon," now that I think about it. They came by all week, because that first story arc was "to be continued," the one where whatever-her-name-is becomes She-Ra. I wasn't very popular unless it involved some form of media; another example is when Nintendo first came out and suddenly everyone wanted to hang out with me -- to play Super Mario Bros., natch, and to save the princess from the dragon....Hmm....Must be something to this whole princess business. Whenever kids in the neighborhood and I played make-believe, I loved being the princess. I pretended to faint on the basement floor, and then Tim Smith across the street would pick me up and "save" me. Come on; we all know a Tim Smith. The rebel greaser boy (a.ka. River Phoenix in
Stand By Me). Ah, to only be in Tim's arms again....I would have loved to be a happy little housewife. Oh. That's right. I always wanted to be the mother when we all played House. Ask my cousin Molly. She still picks on me about that, how I made her be the dad so I could be the mom.
*Renee and I absolutely loved Cyndi Lauper and Madonna. We'd listen to "Material Girl" over and over on our tape and try to write down the lyrics and memorize them. I had the
She's So Unusual album (the record had Cyndi's feet kicking in the air) and we'd put on the album and throw play money around and pretend that, alas, money really did change everything. And fuck, doesn't it?
*My dad took my brothers, mom, and me to a double feature:
King Solomon's Mines and
Rainbow Bright and the Star Stealer. Now that Richard Chamberlain has come out of the closet, this really was a Gay Day, wasn't it?
*This made my brothers and I cool
and girly -- we got to see
The Last Unicorn in theatres. Jordan got so sad at the end, when the unicorn goes back into the forest. We kept saying, "But she's going home, Jordan, she's going home...." but he just screamed and cried all the way back to the car.
*Now this is an example of me being more weird than gay....But my imaginary friends seemed a lot stranger than most. My friend Sara lived in the toilet paper roll and I'd chat with her while using the bathroom. And I used to tell myself stories while playing with--and talking to--a piece of paper and/or a pen/pencil. Yep, that's right. I'd wave the paper and writing utensils around and make up stories for hours and hours....
*So many memories sift through me....Yeah, I'm going to get nostalgic here....Watching
Stand By Me with Dad, and falling in love with that movie, and totally connecting with Will Wheaton's character.....My dad playing "Monster" with all the kids in the neighborhood. This might be my favorite memory of my father. He used to dress up in a cape and chase us all around, and swing us and tickle us. Everyone thought he was the coolest dad on the block. Jordan and Aaron: remember the side of the house with all the lilacs and how he'd hide in there?....I have a couple manly memories (even if I'm stretching to find them!): Going to see
Top Gun with Dad (although I think I fell more in love with Berlin's "Take My Breath Away" than the actual movie -- yep, totally gay). And I used to collect G.I. Joe dolls. No, I swear. I actually did. And hey, my love of gory horror movies must earn me at least a couple macho points.
In any case, my brothers and I haven't really changed that much. We're just more who we were always meant to be. We're all still kinda girly, but we're also way more hot, cool, sexy, funny, smart, and sure of ourselves. I love having brothers who accept me, and who I can joke with and have fun with. I feel really blessed. And Mom gets credit, too, for accepting our sassy selves. I mean, I'm sure she's had her secret moments when she wished one of us knew how to actually spell "spourtz," but what can you do? Blood is thicker than water. I come from really, really good blood. That's worth more gore than any horror movie I can think of.
