The Gayest Person I Have Ever Known, by Betsy

What does it mean to be
the gayest?  Using the word gay in its
generic sense and being a woman myself, I will discuss the term gayest in
relation to the only woman I know about whom I can make that judgement. And that
would be yours truly.  Now that I think
about it I find that I do not know how to apply the adjective to anyone except
myself.  How do I know how gay someone
is? How do I know how straight someone is? 
Are we talking about their libido? 
I don’t think so.  I have heard of
lesbians with very strong libidos, but I don’t consider them to be gayer than
others.  On the other end of the scale I
have known a few women who have a dislike and distrust of men in general,
suggesting that they may have been abused in the past. These women avoid men,
prefer not to associate with men, gay or straight, relate only to women and are
considered by themselves and others to be lesbians. Yet they are not interested
in sex with a woman either.  They are
basically asexual.
 Or perhaps we’re talking about
a gay person who never associates with straight people. Does this make a person
gayer than one who has a more diverse group of friends and associates.
Certainly not.  Could it mean a person
who is more secure in his/her gayness. 
Possibly.  But I reject that as well.  That just means the person is more secure,
not GAYER. 
And so, I repeat. The
only person whose degree of gayness I might have any idea about–has to be
myself.  And to compare my degree gayness
with that of others, I have to be able to measure the degree of gayness of
others.  And I have just made the case
that such a measurement is impossible. Hmm..This presents a problem.
But wait!  Enter the queerometer.  Just when the problem seems impossible to
solve, I remember the queerometer.  I
discussed this very issue once before in a piece called “Queer, Just How Queer.”  Could we not just as well have called it “Gay,
Just How Gay.”  I’m going to revisit what
I wrote then.
Imagine that we could
measure an individual’s degree of sexual orientation by taking, say, a blood
test.   This would be an ugly world
indeed with a rigid caste system.  The
most heterosexual would be on top and the most homosexual on the bottom. 
Newborns would be
immediately tested at birth.  Here’s one
scenario.
“Congratulations, Mr. and
Mrs. Jones.  You have a healthy baby boy
measuring only two on the queerometer.  He will be your pride and joy.” 
Or, the dreaded scenario:  “You have a healthy baby boy, Mr. and Mrs.
Jones.  He has 10 fingers and 10 toes and
all his parts.  I’m sorry to tell you
that he tests positive on the queerometer
He’s a 9.6″
“Oh,” says Mrs. Jones,
gasping for breath.   “A 9.6 !  Does that mean, does that mean?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” says
the attendant.  “At the age of eight years
you will be required to turn him over to the Department of Corrections.  He will be yours until then.  Enjoy!”
Or the following
close-call:
“Congratulations, Mr. and
Mrs. Jones.  You have a beautiful baby
girl.  She appears to be in perfect
health and all her parts are in the right place.  However, she does measure a five on the
queerometer, which, as you know, is high. 
The state will provide you with all the materials you need to guide her
in the right direction.  If you use the
manual wisely and stick to it, she will turn out just fine and I’m sure she
will live a normal life and give you many grandchildren.”  
Or imagine a world in
which LGBT people took on a particular hue at puberty.  Say, a shade of purple.  The really dark purple ones would be the
really, really, queer ones, and the light violets would be only slightly
inclined to be homosexual or transgender, or bisexual, or queer.  I can see the pride parade right now.  A massive multi-shaded purple blob oozing
down Colfax.
Alas, this does not
answer the question at hand: who is the gayest person I have ever known. The
queerometer fortunately does not exist and we hope it never will. So, the
question “Who is the gayest person I have ever known” remains unanswered.   As I write, an appropriate answer comes to
me.   WHO CARES!  And the more people who don’t care, the
better off we will be.
© 28 Jul 2014 
About
the Autho
 Betsy has been active in
the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver Women’s Chorus, OLOC (Old
Lesbians Organizing for Change), and the GLBT Community Center. She has been
retired from the human services field for 20 years. Since her retirement, her major
activities have included tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a
volunteer instructor with the National Sports Center for the Disabled, reading,
writing, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage.
She has a close relationship with her three children and four grandchildren.
Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her
life with her partner of 30 years, Gillian Edwards.

Forbidden Fruit by Ray S

For some of us bornagains or unbornagains we can attribute the source of today’s subject to what could be construed (depending on your point of view or philosophy) a Judeo/Christian’s earliest known erotica. The Adam and Eve fall from grace and all the ensuing details that have for eons been left up to the imagination of the true believers. Let’s not go there now. 

But that must have been some apple! At the risk of being labeled “chauvinist pig” by some of our fairer sex, I have to say “let’s hear it for the ladies.” They’ve always had the know how and upper hand when it comes to a really good siren song leading to the ecstasy of the flavor of that forbidden fruit.
Right then and there in that Garden of Eden (which has many lactations worldwide) the whole world of human relations got its snaky start. And like other humans’ addictions the apple tree is still bearing fruit as well as little bundles of joy. Even in the beginning it seems those prophets of old had to find a way to lay a trip on people kind. The idea must have been to promote “evil” so someone else could have sinners to forgive and redeem for practicing what comes naturally. Today the sages call it LIBIDO–it’s that damn snake again figuring ways to establish never ending power trips. There is always someone more powerful, more intelligent, more superior in all ways, lording it over the rest of us fruit eaters.
But, getting back to what has been condemned “forbidden” seems that right back there in little old Edenville the more forbidden, the more delicious the fruits became! And, of course, more desirous. Once that bite caressed the tongue, the acquired taste of the apple or fruit of your choice never wanes.
Seems like what this world needs is more delicious fruits and abounding trees of love for one another. Teach that snake to emphasize nice and naughty and cut way back on hate, guilt, pestilence and avarice.
One has to try so very hard to remember and practice that “LOVE MAKES THE WORLD GO ROUND.”

© 21 April 2014

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