"A Whiter Shade of Pale": Existential Angst or Hetero Sex?

I usually hate the expression "It ruined my childhood."  It's usually used by homophobes who discover that someone they admired in childhood is gay.

But a little piece of my childhood died when I discovered the true meaning of "A Whiter Shade of Pale," the iconic 1960s song by Procul Harum.

The band, formed in 1967, has nothing to do with "protocols" or "harems"; it was named after a member's cat.  "A Whiter Shade of Pale," their first recorded song, was written by 20-year old Keith Reid.   In high school, heavy laden with existential angst, I found the mysterious, symbolic lyrics and melancholy organ music resonated with the human condition.  It was about the meaninglessness of life.

But I recently read an interview with Keith Reid  He says it was about a man trying to convince a woman to have sex with him.

Huh?  This evocative, iconic, symbolic, deep song is not about the magic and mystery of life?  It's really just about a stupid hetero hookup?

Next you'll be claiming that there is no Santa Claus.

Ok, how on Earth are these lyrics about sex:

We skipped the light fandango, turning cartwheels around the floor.

I was feeling kind of seasick, but the crowd called out for more.

A fandango is some sort of dance. Obviously a performance going on.

The room was humming harder

As the ceiling flew away

We're no longer in ordinary time.  The ceiling flies away, displaying the night sky and secrets of the universe.

And so it was that later

As the miller told his tale

That her face, at first just ghostly

Turned a whiter shade of pale

Me: Her face is turning pale.  She is a sybil, preparing to prophesy.

Keith:  Her face is turning pale because the Miller's tale is about sex, and she's embarrassed.

She said, 'There is no reason'

And the truth is plain to see

Me: There is no reason.  There is no greater purpose. We live, and then we die, and that's the end.

Keith:  She denies that she is embarrased by the depiction of sex.  Her face didn't turn pale for any particular reason.

One of sixteen vestal virgins

Leaving for the coast.

Me: A vestal virgin is dedicated to the service of a god.  "Leaving for the coast" means that you are giving up.  There are no gods to serve, so there can be no vestal virgins.

Keith: She's part of a tour group.

Although my eyes were open, they might just as well been closed.

Me: He refuses to acknowledge the meaninglessness of life.

Keith:  He refuses to acknowledge that she's not interested, and keeps trying.

That's as far as it usually goes on the radio, but the album contain an additional verse;

She said, "I'm home on shore leave," though in truth we were at sea, so I took her by the looking glass, and forced her to agree.

Me: She's been lying the whole time.  The looking glass is a gateway to another world.  By holding the glass up to her face, he plans to force her to acknowledge that there is a spiritual reality after all.

Keith: He forces her to agree that she is interested in sex.

"You must be the mermaid who took Neptune for a ride."

Me: You are a goddess.  Therefore spiritual reality exists.

Keith: You are a tease.  

But I wandered through my playing cards

And would not let her be

Me: He uses Tarot cards to try to demonstrate the existence of a spiritual realm.

Keith:  They're playing a card game, and he's trying to get with her.

In the rarely played fourth verse, they seal the deal, and go crashing down upon the ocean bed.

Way to ruin my childhood, guys.

The Gay Scene of "Atlanta"

I tend to skip tv series pegged as "a remarkable accomplishment," "richly nuanced," and "a triumph."  It will be invariably be gay-free and full of hetero-romantic lo-oo-oove.

But the first season of Atlanta was cheap, and I figured I might get some black beefcake out of the deal.

It's advertised as a comedy, but it's actually a drama with absurdist touches set in the hip hop-heavy world of Atlanta.

Slacker Earn (Donald Glover, no relation to Danny Glover) has failed at everything he's ever tried, to the  "I've heard it all before" disapproval of his girlfriend and parents.  Lately he's been trying to help his cousin Alfred (Brian Tyree Henry) start a rap career under the name Paper Boi.

The first episode began with a shootout in a parking lot, and then a lot of hugging and kissing between Earn and his girlfriend, so I skipped to Episode #2, which, according to the episode guide, "deals with issues of homophobia and transphobia."

Problem: Earn and Alfred mumble.  Words slur into other words.  They interrupt and talk over each other  It's like a real conversation, overheard from across the room, loaded down with hiphop slang.  I can't understand most of what they are saying.  Fortunately, most of the other characters enunciate.

1. Earn and Alfred are at the police station, waiting to be booked for "disturbing the peace."  Riffs on injustice in the justice system and annoying bureaucratic red tape.  They discuss whether female-presenting person Lisa (Jason Jamal, top photo, in drag) is a man or a woman, and tease each other about wanting to hae sex with her (I think.  The dialogue is mostly "mumble, mumble...that's a man, man....  mumble, mumble...shiiit, no....mumble, mumble...you know you would.")

2. The light atmosphere turns dark when another inmate spits toilet water into an officer's face, whereupon he is savagely beaten and tazed.  In some states spitting on someone is a felony, due to the unfounded fear that you can transmit HIV that way.

3. Alfred is released on bail and goes out into the world, where he is discomforted by doting fans. A woman gets upset with her children for pretending to shoot each other, as in Paper Boi's song about shooting someone, but when Paper Boi himself shows up, she's all smiles and selfies.

4. Alfred and his sidekick Darius (Lakeith Stanfield of Get Out) go to a bar and have an existential conversation, I think.

5. Meanwhile, Earn is still in the holding tank, waiting to be assigned a jail cell, because his girlfriend won't pay his bail.  A guy turns around and goes into a long monologue about not seeing his friend for 12 years, and then getting into a fight with him.

6. Now Earn is stuck between Johnny (Luke Forbes) and Lisa, who are flirting but won't let him move.  Apparently they dated in high school.   The other inmates point out "Dude, that a man.  You gay!"  Johnny insists that he's not gay, becoming more and more irate.   Earn tries to defuse the situation: "Sexual orientation...mumble, mumble... complicated.... mumble, mumble...do what you want."

I agree that a man who is interested in female-presenting persons is not gay, regardless of what type of equipment they have. But this all has an unpleasant homophobic taste. 

But apparently the rest of the series is gay-free.

Later episodes continue to mix hefty levels of violence with absurdist humor. There is ample beefcake  (such as Harold House Moore as someone named Swiff, no "t"),  and even some penises on display.

And a lot of boy-girl lo-oo-oove.

Rod Stewart: Gay Rumors, Heterosexual Songs

This song has been going through my head for two days:

It's late September and I really should be back at school
I know I keep you amused, but I feel I'm being used
You led me away from home, just to save you from being alone

You stole my heart, and that's what really hurts

"Maggie Mae" (1971) is about a college boy who hooks up with an older woman, and finds that she has taken control of his life.  I had a similar experience with my first boyfriend Fred -- an older man (well, 28) who convinced me to leave home, drop out of college, and follow him cross-country to Omaha. I lasted five miserable weeks.

Rod Stewart's songs are overwhelmingly infused with "girls! girls! girls!" heterosexism, but when you are growing up in a world where gay people are assumed not to exist, you find meaning where you can. 

"Twisting the Night Away" (1972)
Here's a fellow in blue jeans, who's dancing with an older queen
dolled up in her diamond rings, twistin' the night away
Man you ought to see her go, twistin' to the rock and roll
Here you'll find the young and the old twistin' the night away

I didn't realize, at age 11, what a "queen" was, but by the time I got to West Hollywood, I did.

"Tonight's the Night" (1975):

Come on angel my hearts on fire
Don't deny your man's desire
You'd be a fool to stop this tide
Spread your wings and let me come inside

I didn't realize, at age 14, that this was a graphic image of heterosexual sex. I thought he was trying to get someone to "open up" metaphorically, to find an emotional connection.  During my first year in high school, I was trying, with little success, to find something "real," a boy I could actually care about, amid the incessant "date girls!  have sex with girls!" rhetoric.

"You're in my Heart" (1977).

I didn't know what day it was 
When you walked into the room
I said hello unnoticed
You said goodbye too soon

During my junior year in high school, I was depressed because I had never experienced this jaw-dropping, forget-your-name attraction.  Well, I had, but I didn't recognize it, because I thought that boys could only ever be attracted to girls.

"If Loving You is Wrong, I Don't Want to Be Right" (1977)
Your mama and daddy say it's a shame
It's a downright disgrace
Long as I got you by my side
I don't care what your people say

The song is about a girl in love with a married man, but it could easily be applied to "the love that dare not speak its name."

Back in the 1970s, Rod Stewart had the androgynous air of a drag queen in training, and his highly publicized friendship with "bisexual" Elton John raised some rumors.  But closeted gay performers are usually homophobic, just to be on the safe side, and Stewart has always been gay-positive. 

His "Killing of Georgie" (1977), about a gay guy who leaves his small town for New York, and then is murdered (not in a homophobic hate crime), was the first pop song to talk about gay rights. In 2016, he noted that his youngest son Aiden, age five, liked dressing up like a lady. so he might be gay (most likely transgender, or just having fun).

The Best Week of the Best Month of the Best Year for Music

The best year for music was 1977, the best year March, and the best week March 14th-20th  It's a scientifically proven fact.

I was a junior at Rocky High, 16 years old (but not able to drive yet).  I had learned that gay people exist last November, but I hadn't figured "it" out yet.  I don't remember anything specific from that week, but probably Darry and I worked on our heroic fantasy novel, Verne the Preacher's Son and I double-dated, I ran around the track during free days in gym class, I read poetry at Writers' Club and practiced for the jump quiz.

And dreamed of a world where I didn't have to answer the question "what girl do you like?"every five seconds.  I dreamed of freedom.

And I listened to the radio.

1. "Evergreen" (Barbara Streisand, the theme from A Star is Born.  My brother was obsessed with that movie, and played the sound track over and over.  Whenever I hear it, I think of him, how he was the first person I came out to, and how he was ok with it, in small-town Illinois in 1978

Love soft as an easy chair
Love fresh as the morning air

2. "Fly Like an Eagle" (Steve Miller Band)

I want to fly like an eagle, to the sea.
I want to fly like an eagle, let my spirit carry me.
Oh, there's a solution.

I wanted to fly like an eagle, out of Rock Island and over the prairie to where the lights were bright and there was joy everywhere.

3. "Dancing Queen" (ABBA)

You are the dancing queen

Young and sweet

Only seventeen.

You can dance
You can jive
Having the time of your life

I was only sixteen, and Nazarenes thought that dancing was a sin.  Probably jiving, too.  This song offered a glimpse of a seductive, alien world.  Maybe I wanted to be a dancing queen.

4. "Year of the Cat" (Al Stewart)

There's a hidden door she leads you to
These days, she says, I feel my life
Just like a river running through
The year of the cat

Many songs of the 1970s were about time passing quickly, your life slipping away into nothngness.  I didn't understand then.  Now I do.

But in 1977 I was more interested in the hidden door.  What secret world did it lead to?  A disco full of dancing queens, perhaps?

5. "Go Your Own Way" (Fleetwood Mac)

You can go your own way,  go your own way
You can call it thunder. 

At least, that's the way I heard it.  I wanted to go my own way, avoid the trap of job-house-wife-kids, find freedom, and call it thunder.

6.  "The Things We Do For Love" (10cc)

Like walking in the rain and the snow
When there's nowhere to go
And you're feelin' like a part of you is dying

And you're looking for the answer in her eyes


Of course I know it's heteronormative now, but in 1977, who cared?  I always was looking for the answer in someone's eyes.  Or someone's bulge.

7. "New Kid in Town" (Eagles)

The Eagles was a group for "real men," an antidote to the glistening feminine disco crowd.  I can't help it that their songs were always so wistful and melancholic.  I wanted to walk away and escape the constant gossip.

There's talk on the street; it's there to remind you
It doesn't really matter which side you're on.
You're walking away and they're talking behind you.
They will never forget you till somebody new comes along.


8. "Hotel California" (Eagles)

"Relax," said the Nightman. "We are programmed to receive.  You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave."

I was trapped in Rock Island, trapped in a heteronormative prison, and there was no way out.

9. "Carry On, Wayward Son" (Kansas)

Kansas was another group that specialized in sad songs about the futility of life, just what an angst-ridden not-yet-out adolescent wanted to hear.  Except I couldn't figure out how you could "carry on" and "be gone" at the same time.

Carry on my wayward son
For there'll be peace when you are gone
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more

I'm starting to get depressed.  Here are some swimmers celebrating a victory.

Uh-oh.  Now I'm thinking of Queen: "We are the champions, my friend..."

Revisiting Luther College, the Site of my First Sexual Experience

I  had my first sexual experience when I was fifteen years old, at a summer music camp at Luther College, in the far northeastern corner of Iowa  (See: Spending the Night with Todd).

It was a memorable week for other reasons, too: hanging out with real college boys in the dorm lounge, touring the town of Decorah with two cute cellists, buying books in the college bookstore (The Iliad), feeling a little frisson of Nazarene dread at the presence of so many Lutherans.

Having free time, without every moment of my day planned out, like at Nazarene summer camp.  The first time I really felt free.

I always thought of Luther College as ultra-conservative and homophobic, which makes having my first time there especially ironic.

But it turns out that they've had a LGBT student club since 1979. They have a LGBT student center and a PRIDE festival and classes with gay content.  Plus classes on topics like neo-colonialism and Islamophobia.

They have an online gallery with hundred of photos of every aspect of campus life, from art class to guest speakers to swim meets to the statue of Martin Luther.  Thus allowing us to check the beefcake potential.  Are there still cute college students hanging out in the dorms and the student union?

Wrestling singlets are always nice, of course.

Even those of rival schools.

And there are many beefcake photos taken at the swim meets.

But what makes Luther College unique are the candids, shot after shot of guys going about their business, walking across campus, posing with friends and romantic partners, taking selfies.  Sometimes shirtless and buffed.

Sometimes just shirtless.

Usually neither.

I like these photos the best. They remind me of that long-ago week at Luther College, where everything was fresh and new, and I could hang out with cute college guys in the dormitory tv room.

Gay Symbolism in Chicago

I went to high school in the midst of the disco era, when everyone was carrying around boom boxes, practicing complicated dance moves, and listening to songs about the night life:
I love the night life, I want to boogie on the disco floor.
Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother, you're staying alive
I should be dancing

And the groups we listened to were all flash and glitter, with bare chests and bulges, promising crazy nights of sexual excess, flirting with androgyny, asking us to wonder "Could he be gay?"

Except for Chicago, some guys with guitars and drums, wearing regular  shirts and jeans -- no bare chests, no bulges.

No androgyny, all married to women and following sports.

 Their no-nonsense, hetero manly albums (mostly entitled Chicago) had a subdued beat impossible to dance to and lyrics that you actually had to listen to in order to understand, mostly stories about pain and loss.

And, paradoxically, obviously without their intention, full of gay subtexts.  Girls rarely mentioned.  The lost love could be male or female.

April 1975, just after Dan and I broke up, "Old Days":
Take me back to the world gone away
Memories
Seem like yesterday

August 1975, the beginning of my sophomore year at a new high school,  "Brand New Love Affair":

It's no good to be all alone

When you hurt a friend

And you both feel empty

What I'd give to erase the pain

Will we ever make friends

June 1976, just after my date with the King of Sweden, "Another Rainy Day in New York City"

Another rainy day in New York City

Softly sweet, so silently it falls

As crosstown traffic crawls

Memories in my way in New York City,

July 1976, just after my first sexual experience, "If You Leave Me Now"

If you leave me now, you take away the biggest part of me.

September 1977, the beginning of my senior year"Baby, What a Big Surprise"

, Yesterday it seemed to me

My life was nothing more than wasted time

But here today you've softly changed my mind

May 1978, during the angst-filled month before I figured "it" out, "Take Me Back to Chicago"

Take me back to Chicago
Lay my soul to rest
Where my life was free and easy
Remember me at my best

See also: My Date with the King of Sweden; The Best Day of the Best Month of the Best Year Ever.

"Open Up the Closet Door": The Theme Song of 300 Nights in a Leather Bar

In West Hollywood, gay bars always had a theme song that you would hear over and over, at least once an hour, every time you visited.

From 1985 to 1993, I went to Mugi, the Asian bar in Hollywood, almost every Saturday night, sometimes Wednesday or Friday, too.  That means that I heard "One Night in Bangkok" at least 300 times.

From 1990 to 1995, I went to the Faultline, the leather bar on Melrose, near Los Angeles City College.  There were some Asian guys there, too, of course.

I was there almost every Sunday afternoon, sometimes Friday or Saturday, too.  So I heard their theme song over 300 times.

I never heard it anywhere else. I didn't know the title or the group, and I didn't bother asking.

It seemed to be a Gay Pride anthem:

Open up the closet door, watch out, here I come.

Although some of the lyrics seemed to involve a bar pickup:

You, I don't even know your name, baby.
You, something something, baby.

With a chorus:
Round, round, round, round, something something baby, round round round round.

Years later, I heard the song again, at the gym of all places, and it brought me back to those many nights and Sunday afternoons surrounded by shirtless and leather-clad men.  When I got home, I did an internet search.


It's "You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)", by the British band Dead or Alive, released in December 1984, peaked at #4 on the dance charts in January 1985.

Boy, did I get the lyrics wrong!  The "gay pride anthem":

Open up your lovin' arms, watch out here I come.

The bar pickup:

If I, I get to know your name, baby
Then I could trace your private number, baby

No specific gay content, although the lead singer of the bad was the fabulously feminine Peter Burns (bottom left), an androgyne in the mold of Boy George, who married a woman and then a man, but divorced him and declared in homophobic contempt that "gay marriage doesn't work.  It's better to marry a woman."

Other members were Mike Percy, Steve Coy, and Tim Lever.

I'm still trying to figure out why an androgynous dance number was the theme song in a leather bar with no androgyny and no dancing.

It doesn't really matter.  Even though I know the lyrics now, I still can hear in my head the gay pride anthem from 300 nights at the Faultline:

Open up the closet door, watch out, here I come.

See also: One Night in Bangkok

Elvis in Underwear

In the 1950s, nude photos of male celebrities were practically non-existent; the few examples we have were taken and developed in private, and didn't get mass exposure for many years.  Even shirtless photos are uncommon.  So it's no wonder that Elvis Presley caused a stampede when he was photographed in his underwear during his induction into the U.S. army in 1958.














At the time he was the most famous singer in the world, a cultural icon who almost single-handedly drew rock and roll away from its roots in jazz and blues.   He had already had a string of #1 hits, including "Heartbreak Hotel," "Blue Suede Shoes," "Don't Be Cruel," "Hound Dog" -- the list goes on.  Being drafted was a big deal, even without the underwear.

A few other shirtless shots have surfaced over the years.  Elvis didn't have a great physique; in fact, he was a little chunky.  But that didn't make much difference to his armies of fans, in and out of the army.

He was apparently quite homophobic in real life -- most men of the 1950s generation were -- but that didn't stop him from forging friendships with many gay men.

Including actor Nick Adams.  Of course, he may not have known: Adams was not exactly out at the time.

The 12 Most Homophobic, Heterosexist, and Horrible Songs

Heterosexism is commonplace in the "girl! girl! girl!' banter of popular music.  But some songs are so heterosexist, homophobic, or otherwise horrible that I literally can't stand to hear them.  If they come on tv, I click the channel, and if I can't find the remote, I run from the room.  If they're playing in a store, I leave. And heaven help the friend who starts singing one of them!

1. "It's a Man's World" (James Brown, 1966)

It's a man's world, but you're nothing...nothing at all, without a woman!

(See: Homophobic Moments in Music)

2. "She Bangs" (Ricky Martin, 2000).

A gay guy singing about how much he likes the way a girl moves, and then a pun on "shebang" and a dirty phrase for sex.  Can't get any more Uncle Tom than that.

3. "Stand Tall" (Burton Cummings, 1976)

December 1976: I was home sick, looking for a gay comic book, and thinking "No way am I a swish!"  And I heard on the radio:

Stand tall, don't you fall, don't go and do something foolish
All you're feeling right now is silly human pride.

Right, not gay, don't do anything foolish.

4. "Lady" (Kenny Rogers, 1980).

October 1980. I was cruising at the levee, looking for love, negotiating the incessant "what girl do you like?" chants of my family and friends.  And I heard:

Lady, I'm your knight in shining armor, and I love you.
Let me hold you in my arms forever more....

5. "When Doves Cry" (Prince and the Revolution, 1984).

June 1984: I'm on my way to Hell-fer-Sartain State University for the worst year of my life, and this ultra-feminine, super-gay coded guy starts singing about a heterosexual breakup:

How can you just leave me standing, alone in a world so cold?
Maybe I'm just too demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father, too bold

(See Looking for Beefcake in Nashville.)

6. "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" (Judy Garland, 1944).

Once I was sick and stayed home on Christmas day, and the drag queen next door was playing this horror by gay icon Judy Garland over and over and over. It's still the main cause of the spike in suicides every Christmas.

More (gulp!) after the break.

Bruce Springsteen: Gay Ally with a Sordid Past

Bruce Springsteen, "The Boss," went completely under my radar in the 1970s and 1980s.  I knew "Blinded by the Light" (1973), but only through the 1977 cover by Manfred Mann's Earth Band, something about a teenage boy who "pumps his way into a hat" and is  "wrapped up like a douche."

The actual word is "deuce," but I have no idea what a deuce is.  Something to do with card playing?

I knew "Born in the U.S.A." (1984), but I thought it was a jingoistic patriotic anthem, not an indictment of our treatment of Vietnam War veterans.  How could you get that from:

Born in the USA, I was born in the USA, I'm a cool rockin' Daddy in the USA.

And I had a vague image of dead-end towns, pick-up trucks, hard-drinking men who worked in factories and the women who gave their lives meaning, gross heterosexist country-western stuff, nothing I would want to listen to.

There are lots of homophobic slurs in his songs.

In "Lost in the Flood" (1973), a returning Vietnam veteran moans that the countryside's burning with wolfman fairies dressed in drag for homicide.  

Not a very positive depiction of the Gay Rights Movement.

In "Tokyo" (1973), as the sun rises, a macho garbage man gets ready for work:  He hurriedly sipped his beer, and poked fun of the queer, and threatened to kick his ass.

"Backstreets" (1975) two friends grow up on the mean streets.  One of their pastime is "ripping off the fags."

More recently, "Balboa Park" (1995) talks about hustling: Where the men in their Mercedes come nightly to employ the services of the border boys

No positive references to gay people, but "Streets of Philadelphia" (1993) which was used in the movie starring Tom Hanks as gay man dying of AIDS, can be about any gay person's struggle with a brutal, heartless, homophobic world .

Ain't no angel gonna greet me,  it's just you and I my friend
And my clothes don't fit me no more.  A thousand miles just to slip this skin

Nevertheless, Springsteen claims that he had gay friends from the very beginning, and at least since the 1990s, he has been a vocal ally of the gay community.  He cancelled a concert in North Carolina in protest of the homophobic and transphobic House Bill 2:

"Some things are more important than a rock show, and this fight against prejudice and bigotry is one of them."

My Uncle's Queer: Joel's Transformation from Choir Boy to Punk Rocker

Rock Island, December 1999

I am in grad school in New York, visiting Rock Island and Indianapolis for the holidays, staying with my brother Kenny in his rundown, rambling house downtown.  The house is crowded with Kenny's four kids, his new wife, and her three kids, plus a huge assortment of dogs, cats, hamsters, and parrots.

It's easy to miss Joel, Ken's youngest son, in the crowd: he's thirteen years old, short, slim, a quiet, polite Johnny Nazarene.  But a talented singer: he's toured in Iowa, Minnesota, and Sweden with the Moline Boys' Choir.  We go to their Christmas concert and hear his solo in "Come, O Come Emmanuel."

December 2000

Yuri and I are visiting Rock Island for the holidays. My family practices a "don't ask, don't tell" policy, so they don't know if we're friends or boyfriends or lovers.  Most of them probably don't even know that we are gay.  But Joel figures it out.  Although he claims to be straight, he asked us to teach him and his friend Max "how gay guys have sex."

Yuri and I teach him about gay kissing.





August 2001

I've completed my Ph.D., and I'm visiting Rock Island for a few days just before moving to Florida.  Joel is a cute 15 year old with short black hair, pale skin, and nicely rounded biceps.  Nazarenes aren't allowed to listen to "the devil's music," basically anything with guitars, but he likes Weezer, Nickelback, and other groups that I never heard of, but sound loud.

Oddly, Ken doesn't forbid it.  "It's his life," my brother says.  "If he likes the devil's music, that's on him."

Joel asks why I didn't bring Yuri.  "You guys are, like, hot together, aren't you?"

Ken glares at me, accusing me of outing myself to his son.  "Boomer has a lot of friends, all kinds," he explains.  "Black, white, Jewish, Muslim, gay, straight.  He's so liberal, it hurts."



December 2001

Joel is a surly 15-year old, dressed all in black, who protests the "capitalist spending frenzy" of Christmas.  He spends most of his time in the room he shares with his brothers, listening to metal music.  He emerges to eat a bowl of Lucky Charms instead of Christmas dinner, and to ask "So, Uncle Gizmo, are the beach boys hot down in Florida?  I bet you get tons of action."

In front of the whole family, including relatives I wasn't out to!

"Um...well, I do ok," I stammer.

Later I ask Kenny if Joel is gay.

"Nope, nope, nope!" Kenny exclaims.  "He's totally hot for girls.  He's got a little gay friend, but that doesn't mean a thing."


June 2003

Maybe Kenny is angry about my accidental outing, or maybe he's just busy, but he doesn't invite me to Christmas in Rock Island in 2002. I don't visit again until June 2003.

Joel has just turned 17.  He has long green hair, earrings,  and a pierced lip.  He gives me a hug and calls me "Beach Boy,"

He just got back from Hardcore Fest, where he heard Walls Of Jericho, Suicide Note, Saved By Grace, As We Speak, Provoke, How It Ends, Devastator, Preacher Gone To Texas, Blood In Blood Out, Too Pure To Die, For Death or Glory, Wings Of Scarlet, Uphold, Begin Again, King of Clubz, Pound for Pound, Undo Tomorrow, Haunted Life and Butt Lynt.

"Sounds like a great lineup," I tell him.

And naturally he's the lead vocalist in his own punk band, The Dead Eunuchs.


June 2004

Joel has a bright red mohawk, and his group, The Dead Eunuchs, have been performing all over the Quad Cities.  Tonight they have a gig at the Rusty Nail in Davenport.

"You should come," Joel says.  "We play a great set."

Well -- I'm not much for punk music in noisy heterosexual bars. "I don't think..."

 "You'll like one of our songs.  It's called 'My Uncle is Queer.'"

The full story, with nude photos and explicit sexual language, is on Tales of West Hollywood.