I noticed an interesting contrast tonight that made me feel proud to be an American. I stayed around home tonight, I just wanted some quite time. I watched movies, ate popcorn. Anyway, I heard the fireworks shows going off down over Elliott Bay and at the same time, I was watching Queer as Folk, two of the characters were fucking. Outside, possibly up on the roof there were a bunch of frat boys whooping it up and screaming, breaking into spontaneous choruses of “Happy Birthday”.
I just realized something this morning. It was one of those I’ve know all along in the back of my mind but never really paid too much attention to kind of things. I’ve never really had a voice with my mom. Since my teens I’ve never really spoken my mind expressed my insgihts or beliefs if they’ve disagreed with hers. My mom is a very interesting person. She grew up in the 50’s going to Catholic boarding school. She entered the noviate to become a nun and moved to Mexico. Through some things that happened she was forced to leave and join the ranks of us regular folk. She met and eventually married my father. When my (biological) mom was killed in a car accident, I was placed with her and my dad. They eventually divorced and I went with her while my dad stayed in Florida (if memory serves). She had offically adopted me at this point (I was 3-4). We moved back up north to New York (Nyack) were we lived. She met my sisters father, Paul and they married. I remember the wedding because I didn’t like him at all, and carried on and fussed as they were getting married. She told me later on in life that the main reason she married him, was that she thought I needed a father. Funny choice because Paul was the least fatherly like choice I could think of. Stone would have been a better choice and warmer too. They got divorced in a scene that would make any drama queen proud. He says he caught her in adultery, which she later told me was true. I work to her screeming and running around the house, “he’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me” while Paul was very methodically cleaning out one of his many guns. She eventually called the police who came and arrested him. The only good thing that came out of that marriage was my sister Karen. So to make this long post shorter, it was Karen my mom and myself. Mom eventually returned to the Church and became a lay nun. She has been taking in AIDS (and drug addicted) babys since the beginning of the crisis. She has been a major advocate for pediatric AIDS care in NY. We have always had an unusual relationship. Shes got the whole gay is ok, as long as you don’t do anything stuff going on. Which is the Catholic party line even though she has always supported my relationships (Mike and William). Shes become more Republican as shes gotten older, a natural consequence of senility I think. I’m tremendously proud of the work my mom does, shes the most selfless person I know and she doesn’t have a clue that she is. The point of this pose was to remind myself that I need to use my voice. I got my brashness and confrontational nature from her, yet I don’t use it with her. I don’t want her to think any less of me than I already think she does. That’s what I was trying to get to, I knew if I wrote this all out I’d get to the truth of it. Now theres something laid bare and plain. Nothing startling I’m sure to most and certainly not some great insight, but it is a truth for me that I needed to lay plain.