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This is a story about a friend of mine; we'll call him Shannon (not his real name). Shannon was one of the joys of gay life. He was always on the cutting edge of fashions and trends. He hosted the wildest parties, knew the cutest people. You could always count on him to show up at demonstrations. He was part of our Fag Rag Collective for many years.

Then he changed. He and his last boyfriend broke up, lost their condo in the last real estate crash. He got a nice job in a swank law firm. He gave up the drugs, the booze, the cigarettes. He told me he wanted to find a woman, get married, have children. Well, it happens. He was seen with several women; they all moved on. For the past number of months, he has been seeing a lady in New York. They seem to be heading to the altar.

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Just days back, I got an e-mail. Shannon described how he had proposed. He had gotten the two of them to Paris. Rushed to get them into the Louvre Museum before closing. He wanted to get his beloved in front of the statue of Venus de Milo-- it's in a room all by its lonesome. At any rate, there the two of them were, engulfed by other tourists. Shannon fell to one knee, showed his friend the huge diamond he had bought her, and asked her to marry him. She was aghast. He asked again. Everyone in the room was watching. Again, he put the question to her. On the third try, she said yes, but I simply assumed she must have been embarrassed and completely livid. When I finished the e-mail, I smiled and I said to myself: "Shannon better watch out. He'll give ex-gays a bad name!" I mean, what normal straight man would plan such an extravaganza-- only a quean, my dear-- and by the madness of it all might lose the girl!

I was shocked that I had even used the word "ex-gay." In my life, I conscientiously avoid being duped by language and mindsets put up by the right-wing agents in this land. "Ex-gay" being a perfect example. My Zanesville brother called me the week Newsweek magazine had a cover story on ex-gays. He wanted to kick it around. I told him I too had been reading the local press about ex-gays. Seems our local chapter of ex-gays found that the two guys who ran the operation ran off with each other and with the org's treasury to boot! I regard ex-gay religious ministries as just fronts for faggot christian dating services.

Then I wondered. Are there ex-straight ministries and organizations that assist those trying to escape the straight lifestyle-- football games, Club Med, battery, matrimony? Are there groups for ex-bisexuals? I've never heard of any. (I once read an announcement for a metro NYC Bi group; they called themselves Tri-State Bi-Sexuals; they were having a 4-bean dinner fundraiser, starting at 5, putting them at their 6s and 7s, and they had to dress to the 9s.)

Was Shannon now an ex-gay? Assuming he does get married and he and the Mrs. create issue-- it's always hard to imagine one's friends as parents; why is that?-- won't there always be that mad quean inside of him somewhere, dormant, a sleeping beauty? A lot of gay men get married to women. A lot of men married to women are homosexual. Marriage and family are powerful weights on those who would dissent. I have always regarded homosexual orientation as a blessed ticket out of conventional sexual patterning. Yet, some people like conventionality and the comforts it allows.

Then, again, you never know, no matter how much you know. I adored reading John Malcolm Brinnan; we even knew people in common. But it wasn't until I read his obit that it was fully made clear to me he was one of the tribe-- his male lover was listed as his survivor. Same thing happened with Raymond Burr (the actor who played Perry Mason). It was in his obit that those in the world, like myself, were informed of his surviving male lover. The mantra back in the 70s was: We Are Everywhere. I'm still catching up.

The real test was put to my sleuthing abilities with the death of baseball great Joe DiMaggio. Joe was married twice. First time was back in the late 30s and early 40s. It didn't last long. A decade later, he married Marilyn Monroe. That lasted less than a year. He was single for the last 45 years of his life. He liked San Francisco and privacy-- famous gay code words. He was not known as a skirt-chaser. Is this profile telling us something? I do not know.

There must be many varieties of heterosexual men. Heaven knows, I'm still bumping into to new types of queans. But my operating principle has always been that men who want sex with women will reveal themselves-- the best example is my father, skirt-chasing at 81. And those men not interested in women, well, have other options. Here's the sad part. Assume DiMaggio was into guys (who marries Marilyn Monroe but a gay guy?-- and that drear Miller man?). What could he do about it? The most revered man in the sport-- the sporting world being famously homophobic. Did he have to live a life of sexual denial and neglect? Ex-gays indeed!

What we need is sex-gays, rex-gays, tex-mex-gays-- more fulfillment and latitude, less censure and guilt-tripping, and the sense that sex, identity, social pathology and individual ambitions are, from above, like bumper cars at that crazy stand at the so-called amusement park.

Honk if you're happy! **

Author Profile:  Mitzel
	Mitzel was a founding member of the Fag Rag collective, and has been a Guide columnist since 1986. He manages Calamus Books near Boston's South Station.
	Email:	mitzel@calamusbooks.com
	Website:	calamusbooks.com