Fictionlet
“Honestly,” said Isadora, flicking cigarette ashes out the passenger-side window, “I find most gay men tiresome. Have you ever spoken at length to a gay man, Greg?”
Greg, in the midst of changing lanes, said, “Well, once I…”
“Well then, you know what’s it like. Monotonous, that’s the word. Desperately in love with their own hardware, they are. It’s like talking to a member of the He-Man Woman Haters’ Club. Although I don’t suppose you know who they are.”
“From Our Gang, a.k.a. Little Rascals,” said Greg. “Shorts made by Hal Roach primarily for M.G.M. from the ’20s and ’30s. Now disowned by popular culture, largely due to the efforts of Eddie Murphy in the ’80s. Important as a cultural artifact, but in terms of entertainment value, no big loss.”
Isadora smiled in a “that’s my boy” manner, and said, “Of course, I shouldn’t have doubted you. That’s all right, you just keep putting Auntie Isadora in her place, dear.”
Greg winced awkwardly. “It’s not my intention to put anybody in their place,” he said.
“Well let’s not get distracted. My point is, most of the gay men I’ve met have had this sort of childish misogyny. Not real hatred, but this sort of ‘I like men because girls are icky’ undercurrent. I mean! One boy I talked to said that he thought Grizzly Adams looked too feminine because he had long hair.”
“1977 drama series on NBC,” Greg said, pulling into Isadora’s driveway. “Spinoff of the 1974 film The Life and Times of Grizzly Adams. It had Uncle Duke in it as ‘Mad Jack, the Mountain Man’.”
“Okay, you can stop that now,” Isadora said.
-The Gneech
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