I was in high school when a very beautiful girl came up to me and asked if she could take me to the dance. I had always been hesitant about sneaky tricks to further embarrass me in high school. Plus I never liked girls. So, I had no problem telling her “No.”
We’re always so attracted to eating with the cool kids. To be taken to the dance on the arm of the Quarterback or the Cheerleader. We always want to be famous and get on Leno (Letterman? Kimmel? Carson? Who the hell cares?) To be above ground in the spotlight. Up top shining in the sunlight of Hollywood.
The problem with crawling above ground is that the light destroys the most delicious of shadows. Sometimes there’s nothing wrong with a little shade and a bit of underground mischief.
This year the Southern Comfort Conference moves to Fort Lauderdale Florida. Many veteran attendees will no longer be participating for one reason or another. There was much fuss by many as to the breaking of tradition and moving the conference from Hotlanta (one of my old stomping grounds).
I’ve heard a lot of arguments about the Comfort Con move and the top one is that times sure are a-changin’. It’s not like it used to be. People feel something is drastically different. Others think it doesn’t seem as much like a family anymore. For this I blame the sunlight. The LGBT have been fighting to get above ground for so long that they finally are and in turn now experience the doom known as normalcy. We’ve whitewashed the coffers and rolled out the carpet of Equality. Your conferences used to be private clubs. Our clubs used to be safe havens for the strange. Private clubs are so much more fun when the interlopers aren’t allowed past the velvet ropes.
The quest to be like everyone else is so horrifying to me. To be like Mr. & Mrs. Jones next door should be seen as degrading instead of upgrading! Instead the sparkle is lost with each new law and every additional white picket in the fence. A relief for some whom just wanted to get along and a secret terror for others enjoying a dark night rendezvous.
I peg this popularity and acceptance as part of the cure as much as part of the problem. The strides being made are providing groups of people with the rights they deserve. Yet the same strides are blurring the lines out of darkness and into dullness. It’s too bad we couldn’t have the rights and still be unique creatures dancing on the underground.
Some would say we still can and others would say we can’t possibly expect to eat the cake too.
Enjoy the popular girl’s table in Fort Lauderdale. I’ll be over here in my Elvira dress eating cake off a gay guy’s gold speedo-covered behind.