I have no intention of seeing The Kids Are All Right, a hot new movie that all the critics are having orgasms over.
The story: Two teenage children get the notion to seek out their biological father and introduce him into the family life their two lesbian mothers (Annette Bening and Julianne Moore) have built for them. Now, before someone decides to picket the offices of this newspaper, let me state that I am for gay marriage, some of my best friends are lesbians and I have had the hots for both Annette Bening and Julianne Moore for years.
That all said, I can’t get past the trailer for this movie. I think it’s cheesy, with leering jokes about a semen donor who gets to meet up with the children of whom he is the biological father. Blame it on me—I’m just not ready for a funny semen donor movie.
I’ve seen the trailer at least seven times and every time I see it, it makes me feel icky. Call me a sourpuss, but semen donor humor leaves me cold. I cringe when the little boy asks his leering, creepy, semen donor father why he did it. “I thought it would be a lot more fun than being a blood donor.” For him, maybe, but not for me.
I guess I keep thinking back to the day a few years ago my wife, the beautiful Judy Licht, pressured me into going to see another movie about a gay couple called Brokeback Mountain. I resisted. Judy played the, “What are you afraid of discovering about yourself?” card. “It’s a beautiful love story between two men. What frightens men like you about that?” she added with an accusing sneer. “I just don’t want to see anything ‘icky’,” was my mature retort.
Besides, a graphic love story between two male cowboys was threatening to me because of all the cowboy movies I watched in my youth. It raised so many questions I wasn’t ready to deal with. Was there something going on between the Lone Ranger and Tonto? An Indian with a 10-word vocabulary slavishly devoted to a guy who insists on going to bed wearing a mask—was theirs a truly mixed marriage that I was too young to pick up on? How about Hopalong Cassidy? What was the source of his physical discomfort that made him Hopalong?
As a 12-year-old boy, I loved going to Roy Rogers movies and I secretly lusted after his wife Dale Evans. If you stared closely (and I did) at Dale’s embroidered cowboy blouses, you could actually see the outline of some fairly large breasts. I remember straining my eyes to look at Dale Evans’ well-covered breasts. To my 12-year-old eyes, they looked soft and friendly. What was Roy Rogers doing at the time? Was he making it with Gabby Hayes? And what was Red Ryder doing traveling across the west with a little Indian boy—the unfortunately named “Little Beaver”?
While I was thinking of my youth, Judy took a final cheap shot at me with, “Clearly there is a part of you that you are afraid to confront.” It worked. I went off to see Brokeback Mountain. Judy was right; I learned more about myself from this movie than from any movie I’ve seen before. The first thing I learned is that one can shut out the yucky scenes by pretending to be staring into a bag of popcorn. I kept both my eyes shut tight. This worked extremely well, but it didn’t shut out the sound of two guys grunting and making these animal-like noises. For a second, I considered putting a piece of popcorn in each ear to muffle them, but I was afraid the people sitting behind me would see me and call the manager to escort me out.
So the movie was Same Time Next Year for two gay cowboys. Judy was right. I learned something about my sexuality watching Brokeback Mountain. I haven’t shared it with her yet. I didn’t quite know how to break it to her. Going to see The Kids Are All Right, with these sweet lesbians being threatened in their relationship by a sneaky semen donor, would probably be the one thing that would put me over the edge.
I would have to finally share my feelings with Judy. I would confess to her I don’t know why a woman would ever want to be with a big, rutting, groaning, clumsy man. I would tell her I feel women are soft and warm and gentle and loving. I could tell that in The Kids Are All Right just by watching the cheesy trailer.
When I was a little boy, my Mom and Dad told me this is America and anyone can be whatever they want to be. Well, after watching Brokeback Mountain and the disgusting trailer for The Kids Are All Right, I know what I want to be and what I am.
I’m a lesbian.
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