March 19, 2007

I CAN'T HELP MYSELF

During the last few days, smoke has come out of my ears and a light bulb has appeared over my head. Any minute now I'll be declared a toxic site.

All this began late one night. After I wrote the last lines of a column, my computer seized up. Over the next action-packed days, experts tried and failed to retrieve the years' worth of material on my hard drive. I lost everything, professional and personal.

Hence the smoke billowing from my ears, as I raged at myself for putting too much faith in Macs and not getting around to backing up. People probably thought my perfume was Eau de Forest Fire.

I lost old columns, and I lost the one that was due. Since it isn't possible to prove otherwise, I'll just go ahead and claim that latest one was a masterpiece. A work of genius, I tell you, genius.

Its vanishing act meant I missed my deadline. I think that was the first time in the seven years I've been writing “General Gayety“ that I haven't come up with the goods. I don't know whether editors consider me reliable or anal, but I assume my not delivering surprised us all.

What with the lost material, a missed assignment and the immediate need to pay for a new hard drive, I was a mess. Subversive thoughts entered my head, like maybe it's time I stopped writing my column, and Mitt Romney would make a fine president.

I'm not one to believe recent events mean God or the universe is trying to tell me something—both must have better things to do—but this would indeed be an obvious time to call a halt to writing for gay publications, with their dismal pay policies and assorted frustrations.

Or maybe I was just feeling the seven-year itch. Whichever, I seriously entertained bringing down the curtain.

Then along came Peter Pace.

In case you were in the midst of something all-consuming—oh, let's say a massive data loss—I'll update you on what the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff had to say. When asked about “don't ask, don't tell“ during an interview with the Chicago Tribune, Marine Gen. Pace likened homosexual acts to adultery.

He said, “I believe homosexual acts between two individuals are immoral and that we should not condone immoral acts.“

I ask you, was that fair? Just as I was preparing to forsake the business of making humor out of the gay experience, the general played dirty, handing me such a choice goodie my fingers itched for the keyboard.

Still, I'd warmed up to the idea of embarking on a different career path, and wouldn't be dissuaded by this single gem of ridiculousness.

Then along came R. Albert Mohler Jr.

Rev. Mohler, president of the nation's leading Southern Baptist seminary, wrote an article for his Web site in which he alerted Christians that homosexuality might well be proven to be biological. If so, he wrote, the Bible still says homosexuality is a sin, so prenatal treatment to reverse gayness would be a grand idea.

“I realize this sounds very offensive to homosexuals, but it's the only way a Christian can look at it,“ he told The Associated Press. “We should have no more problem with that than treating any medical problem.“

My medical problem is not that I'm a lesbian. My medical problem is the light bulb hovering above my head and frying my hair. Because it's clear to me now that when the Paces or Mohlers of the world pop off, I'm constitutionally unable to stay silent. So I won't quit until they do.

–end–