Out of the Straight White Male Closet at Last!

            According to the very reliable source of a couple of Facebook posts I have seen recently, I cannot live a full, proud and honest life unless I make a public declaration of my pride in being a straight white male.  I cannot tell you what a huge burden this has lifted from me and what an enormous difference it will make in my life.

            No, really.  I can’t tell you.

            Actually, I have known that I was a straight white male since I was just a child, and let me say, I have been tormented by that knowledge.  As a young boy I would force myself to play with dolls or take up games like chess or scrabble; or basketball; when I really just wanted to go outside and play football, or watch boxing or professional wrestling on tv; every night I would dream about growing up to be one of those guys who is the embodiment of the American cultural norm, even though I understood that I would suffer terrible reverse discrimination.  In high school, I hid my orientation and identity as well as I could.  I learned Spanish, took home economics, developed a fashion sense and learned how to match my socks to my v-neck sweater, but I secretly kept a set of L.L. Bean clothes in the back of my closet.   I also teased my hair way out, and learned to eat non-white foods like watermelon and fried chicken; and gay foods like quiche.  When I went to college, I majored in theater and would tell everyone what a great actor Sidney Poitier was and how we shouldn’t judge Pee Wee Herman.  I kept not one, but two Little Richard albums next to my stereo; and I would laugh hysterically just at the mention of Lily Tomlin.  I talked all the time about my admiration for Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Eleanor Roosevelt and how I thought that Amelia Earhart was a much better pilot than Lindberg; and I had pictures of people like Martin Luther King, Gandhi, and Chief Joseph on my walls, but longed to have the courage of my roommate, who put up posters of General Patton and George Wallace. 

            It was all a lie, of course, and I hated my fake life.

            But it wasn’t until I left college and started a career that I really understood the straight white man’s burden.  Since I was a theater major, I had to apply for jobs that didn’t use any of my actual skills; but as soon as the employer began to suspect that I might be a straight white guy, I would get an interview and a job offer.  How could I try to pass as non-white if I was always having to pull myself up by my grandfather’s bootstraps?  How could I pass as gay if I kept getting offered really good jobs in prestigious companies?  I’d go out partying at night and drive home; and I can’t tell you how many times I got stopped and was so afraid that I wouldn’t get roughed up or searched or referred to with vile slurs and epithets, or even that I might just get sent home with a wink and a laugh and be told to be more careful next time; just because some racist cop saw that I was a straight white male.

            But now that I have decided to embrace my straight white male identity and declare my straight white male pride, I realize that I am going to have to deal with some prejudice.  I will have to live with the pain of never being looked at with disgust when I and my girl-friend (There, I said it!) show affection, hold hands or kiss in public. We plan to marry some day and I just know that we won’t have the least bit of trouble finding a church to marry us or a clerk to give us our marriage license.   Did you know that gay people actually think that my marrying my girlfriend won’t threaten the sanctity of their marriages at all?!?  I need to accept that people simply aren’t going to ask us which one is the woman, or how we “do It.”  As an out-of-the-closet straight white guy, I will have to deal with the burden of no one ever asking me what “people like me” want; and if something happens, I know that I will be identified as a man, or an American, without any qualifiers.  I will never have the opportunity to be the first straight white guy to do something.

            As a person of no particular color, I believe that we should all be color-blind.

            All I, and people like me, are asking for is to be treated just like everyone else, to know the joys of being denied service; harassed by bosses, random strangers on the street, and the police; thrown out of the military or the Boy Scouts, a job or my church; not represented in our cultural messages, such as advertising, film, or television, except as stereotypes; paid less for the same work.  Let’s face it: white male privilege sucks.

            I suddenly feel so free and strong. Since coming out as a proud straight white male, I can feel my courage rising.

            I think I may be almost ready to come out as a Christian.

I will try to live my life so that I can live a long time . . . and die young.

Notice to All My FB Friends

Notice to All My FB Friends

 

       I am concerned that many of you are not reading my hourly status updates; following the links I post to every FB page or website I have ever visited or liked; checking out my blogs, tweets, or Instagram photos of my meals; engaging with my re-postings of wing-nut rantings, emotional manipulations, and bumper-sticker political positions; or looking at the lovely videos and photos of babies, puppies, kittens, and police brutality I have worked so hard to share.

        I can’t figure out if perhaps FB has some scary new policy or design feature that is preventing you from doing these things, or if the government is somehow interfering with my news feed.

        So I’m asking your help so that you don’t have to miss out on any more of my FB contributions.  If you haven’t read this post, could you please respond in the comments section and tell me what the problem is.  Obviously, if you have read this, then there is no need to respond.

        Only 3% of you will respond to this, but I think I know who you are.

I Love You More

 

 

 

 

Isn’t it great how we don’t even have to say out loud that I love you more* . . .?

 

 

 

*every day . . .



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5 Things to do on April 1st

 

1. Walk up to random people, shake their hands and say, "Don't worry, I'm pretty sure I'm not contagious any more."

 

2. Ask people if they know what day it is.  If they say it's April Fool's Day look surprised and say "What?  Wait . . . really?  Wow!  I was just thinking like . . . you know . . . Tuesday!

 

 

3. Write "Made you look!" in small letters across your forehead.

 

 

4. Walk around with your fly open and when people try to tell you about it say, "Uh-huh, right.  April Fool's, right?  Well you're not going to fool ME that easily."  Then laugh.

 

 

5. Stand on a street corner and ask people to sign your petition, dated November 2, 2016, calling for the impeachment of Hillary Clinton.

 

 

Want to get Together?

THE VAGINA WARS: Protecting Real America From The Great Vagina Threat

            It is clear to all Real Americans – those much maligned and little understood citizens of the near-mythical country of Real America – the greatest threat to our national security, our precious freedoms and the sacred traditions that make us the great country we are is the proliferation of easily accessible, unregulated vaginas.  Something must be done.  But before we deal with solutions, let’s consider the problem.  What are the facts?

             Are you aware that just about every woman in the country is walking around with an unlicensed, unregistered, concealed vagina?  And they are prepared to use them.  That would be bad enough if we were only talking about Real American vaginas, but it is common knowledge that recent years have seen Real America flooded with cheap, illegal foreign-made vaginas that produce a clearly inferior product; often oddly shaped and discolored.  And the vagina is clearly a gateway organ.  It is a statistical fact that 100% of criminals, drug addicts, and welfare recipients started by using a vagina.  Now, you may argue that a great many good people also used a vagina early in life and got lucky and turned out all right, but we can’t be too careful.

            The answer is to much more carefully and strenuously regulate vaginas and their use.  Note that I am not advocating the outright banning of vaginas.  I believe that a well-regulated sex life being vital to the preservation of Real America, the right of law abiding Real American women to bear a vagina should not be infringed.  But it is imperative that we keep vaginas from being used in the wrong ways by the wrong people.

            First, we must develop a national vagina registry, so that we can know where the vaginas are and who has them.  Some will undoubtedly claim that this is just a first step down a slippery slope until the government ‘s jack-booted thugs come to confiscate all our vaginas, but I see it as simply a reasonable precaution to keep vaginas out of the hands of people who would use them to undermine the values and laws of Real America.

            Next, we need to pass strict laws regulating the use of vaginas, especially in public buildings, or within a quarter-mile or so of a school, or anywhere within the borders of our national parks and monuments; and it would be a good idea if all women were required to let other customers know if they are carrying a concealed vagina in a bar or restaurant, or on an airplane or other public transportation; with the exception, of course, of well-trained and licensed vagina marshals.  Inappropriate or illegal use of a vagina even in the privacy of one’s own home should be subject to penalty.  The use of a vagina in the commission of a crime, such as rape, should clearly bring severe penalties for the vagina’s owner.  Even law-abiding owners should be required to have safety locks for their vaginas and be responsible for misuse of the vagina by others.

            Also, we need to be sure to regulate and restrict the purchase and use of ancillary vagina products, such as lubricants, stimulants and all forms of birth control, in order to be sure that people aren’t using their vaginas in unacceptable and potentially dangerous ways.   It might be a good idea to license these products, as well as the vaginas themselves, and subject all vaginas to regular inspections to ensure their safety.  Random roadside inspections or the inspection of the vaginas of women who are stopped for routine traffic violations should be considered.

            Now some might argue that similar steps might be taken to regulate the use of the penis as well; but I see that as a sort of apples/oranges analogy; or maybe breadsticks/eclairs.   I mean it’s just not the same thing.  Penises don’t hurt people, people hurt people.  A penis is just a tool -- like a hammer.  If I am using my penis as it was intended by God to be used, then I should not be held responsible for whatever might be ejected from it once the ejected material has left the penis itself.  If it should happen to be ejected into a vagina, it clearly becomes at that moment the property of the vagina's owner, and is now subject to laws regulating the use of said vagina.

            As a Real American, I look forward to the day when vaginas are carefully regulated; and we have unlicensed and unregulated, stand your ground, open carry for penises.