In case you haven’t noticed, we seniors have been puzzled, even aggravated, by the deluge of new LGBT related words. We try to be politically correct and opine with authority as if we fully understand what we are talking about, yet in reality many are not quite sure. We accept these new concepts in silence rather than admit to the unpardonable sin of ignorance just as we did as kids.
Let’s look back … way back; we had not the vaguest idea what a red riding-hood was or a tinder box; nor for that matter, the mystifying one-horse open sleigh which, by the way, I gleefully sang as “one horse soap an say-ay” thinking it was a meaningless phrase akin to “tra la la” and “hi ho the dairy oh.” More seriously was the reciting of “The Pledge of Allegiance” whatever that was. More baffling were “one nation indivisible” and “inalienable rights” which I couldn’t pronounce, much less know what they meant. I’m not sure the teacher did either.
So hang on. The meaning of these new words will clarify with time. If not, they will vanish into the dictionary’s obsolete category. Does “hubba, hubba” ring a bell? My most ardent prayer is that “amazing” and “awesome” will soon be so designated. Occasionally, words/usages have been accepted quickly: mouse, app, vape, etc. This likely will be the case with the new LGBT vocabulary once the meanings firm up.
So relax. “Cisgender” and “gender queer” will be rolling off your tongue as easily as, “”Sidney is no longer gender questioning, but sexually secure as a pre-transitional trans male and comfortable in hes gender-choice identity.” Face it, seniors. These changes are coming. I can’t wait. Can you?
The first bar visit
Passing the several raucous and predominately LGBT bars on University Avenue Saturday night, I was amazed at the hetero mix inside. In my day “straights” would never knowingly enter such alleged dens of depravity. I seldom visit such places now (Why not? Ask a senior). I do, however, enjoy looking in and remembering. Who can forget one’s first daring foray; greeted by loud music and noise in the cheap places or the twinkling piano and show tunes in the better joints (ties and jackets were worn). The lesbians often had a pool table with its accompanying ball-smashing. All places, of course, were viewed through a barely penetrable miasma of smoke (often of a particular pungency).
The bars took turns being raided, so there was the titillating fear the police would barge in and the more rational hope they wouldn’t. This baptismal encounter with overt sexual freedom was enhanced by the discovery and affirmation we were not alone.
But what an ordeal of questions: how to meet someone, what to say, where to go and, most importantly, what to wear? Oh, well, the important point was we had broken the ice and entered a new world with no turning back. All this is still true, but with the new variety of sexual preferences in attendance, the still closeted or questioning can enter with a group stress-free and take their time acquainting themselves with the LGBT world. Later, with a clearer understanding of themselves, they can drop in alone and find acceptance.
