Open Your Mind!...Now Close it a Little

What do ya' think? Too much for Relief Society?

I am a gay Mormon. I boldly state this here in blog-land, obnoxiously so at times, so that you know that I know a little about what I write.

I truly do not define myself by “Homosexual” uniquely as my defining characteristic. I don't wish to limit myself that way. Do straight men define themselves by sexual preference”?

"Hi, I'm Barry, and I like women."

When you ask a straight man what he likes to do, do you get a description of what he does in the bedroom? No - as a rule. Though I must admit that I met a guy last Wednesday that fit this bill and he could not talk about anything else. Different story.

I, however, am a creative, accountable, loving man. I am also gay.

I've also been called a bigot, old fashioned and a poor speller. Two of those accusations have substance. I'm not sure about the other. I truly hope not.

To be frank with you, I don't feel that I am a bigot. If I go into an ice cream parlor, I tend to get vanilla cause it's what I know.

I am willing to look at that with an open mind. I'm gay, after all. And I'm not just a pretend at gay to give myself a way to be different. Or to get an audience for my blog. I am real musical-theater loving, semi-articulate speaking, Designing Women following, general stereotyping, sex with men having gay.

Though I feel that my friends who have come out to their family and friends & are living as openly gay are bold and daring, in this day of neo-liberalism it is just as bold to come out for the right, and by right, I mean right-wing. (I'm not so arrogant to think that I am always correct. Ok, a little).

If I am not of the norm, then do I need to be accepting of others who are not of the norm? Maybe the Lord gave me exactly what he thought I needed to be a better man.

And Now For Something Completely Different...

I'm the one on the left in the long shorts.

Some guy touched my butt today.

I really should explain, though I am contemplating leaving that statement just as-is for a bit of mystery.

Playing basketball at the church has been something I haven't done since we made differentiation between teams with shirt-vs-skins. Being that I was a bean pole and I didn't have a chest or anything on it, I always had something else to do when the guys got together at young men's. I stopped playing sports as a deacon which wasn't a very long career because I had just started as a deacon the week before. Never did I play team sports again with one brief exception of a half a season of boys volleyball until the unfortunate erection episode of '85. You may have heard about it.

So, playing ball, or even wanting to play ball anywhere is difficult for me.

Today my home teacher, Matt, who is in the elders quorum presidency, called me frantically to tell me that there were only four men from the team at the stake center ready to play, and that if there wasn't someone else in five minutes that they (We) would have to forfeit. "So, forfeit", I say. Who needs the stress? If you show up to play the outcome of the game is still in question. If you forfeit, then it's done and over with sooner with no tension at all. However, he pulled a quilt trip on me, which is like a guilt trip only more strings attached, and guess where I was in five minutes - with shorts and shoes and three layers of tee shirts so that if I had to take one of them off there would still be two to cover what has filled out to be enough chest for three of younger-deacon-me.

Now, the thing is, I can't play basketball. I am tall, yes, and I watch a lot of B-ball on TV with my boys, but I don't play.

I just pass the ball. If I just need someone to pass the thing around, then I am your man. Or cheer lead, yes, I'll be there with the manliest pom poms around. Or to stand there in shorts. I can still do that. But "dribbling" is something I usually have to clean up at home. If I really have to block a guy from shooting, I do a Liza impression.

But Matt the Elders Quorum man didn't need me to play. He needed me to stand there and be counted as number 5 so "We" wouldn't forfeit. Standing I can do. So while standing there being number five, I happened to trip up the opposing team-guy who fell flat on his face and was then charged with fouling me. That's what happens when you mess with the dude with the pecs, three tee shirts & a tan who is camping just above the key.

That's when it happened. Some guy smacked my butt and said “nice job, man”.

I have never had a guy touch my hiney to get my attention only to then run off. It was a dude from my ward - the one with the fauxhawk and the little girl who screams bloody murder in sacrament meeting.

This guy ran off and turned to give me a thumbs-up. He booked it across the court like he had just been burned by acid, or like he was waiting for a fast break, which, in retrospect, I suppose he was. Not one from me though. I was busy standing there looking good. That was my job.

And I felt like a guy for the first time in a long time. Some straight guy smacked my butt, and suddenly I was one of the guys - something I have wanted to be all my life.

I don't think I will be washing my left cheek for a long time.

I truly do not wish to be disrespectful, but this rendering answers several questions for me that I felt were important enough to share with you.

1: The Word of Wisdom must be an astonishing kind of thing that I, for one, will be happy to continue to follow.

2: Speedos can most assuredly be a fashion yes for the 30's crowd.

3: With abs like that, the answer to the question asked of every modern man in this case was definitely "Briefs".

4: Refer to #1, and then read your scriptures.