couldn’t spend every waking moment at the campus radio station numbing out to music. So I made a decision. I decided to
be
one of these people. I pasted a smile on my face and I joked around with people; I was always on. And then I decided I was not only going to be one of these people, I was going to be
the best one of these people.
Light on my feet. Quick with a quip. At every party, at every event, in every bar. I went through a disposable camera a week, making people take photos of me with all my new friends as proof.
Look, I belong here! Look at my friends! Wheee!
I was the last to leave every party because I was afraid that if I left anyone behind, they’d talk to each other and piece me together.
7. “Vogue”—Madonna
I had an impression of an effeminate gay man that I did a lot. A
lot.
Generally, when people do impressions of gay men, which in the twentieth century was a popular thing to do, they give their character a lisp: “Oh, Thergio, thtop it!” they’ll thay. This is simply incorrect, from a linguistic anthropological standpoint. The gay accent—the sound some men make with their voices that marks them as homosexual whether they actually are or not—has no lisp. What it has is a hissing sibilance in the
s.
A sharpness. It is unmistakable, and it is not a speech impediment, and every gay man I have ever met who does not naturally use it in his speech does a spot-on impression of someone who does. It’s necessary for survival in the years before you come out. To do a flawless stereotypical-gay-man impression is to distance yourself from stereotypical gay men, which for all you know means “all gay men.” It is to say: you may suspect me of being homosexual, but here, let me take care of that. Let me do an impression of how ridiculous a real gay man sounds, and then go back to my serious, respectable normal voice, thereby giving you a comparison that proves conclusively that I am not
that.
You see the difference?
It is a thing many of us have done, but it doesn’t make it any nicer to look back on.
8. “Slack Motherfucker”—Superchunk
Being everywhere and everything to everyone took energy, which I replenished by sleeping all day, every day. I never went to class. I skipped lectures, I didn’t read books, and I had no idea what my professors looked like. It was a clear cry for help, but you weren’t supposed to need this kind of help by the time you got to college, so nobody answered. I took a logic class, and I never went, and because I never went, I flunked it, and I failed even to see the perfect logic in that.
9. “Between Something and Nothing”—The Ocean Blue
These were my two speeds: socializing and sleeping. Either I was manically trying to dazzle or I was unconscious. I was doing nothing academically because I had no idea what to do. I changed majors three times: pre-med, pre-law, English. Nothing took. I was sinking in quicksand.
10. “Fun and Games”—The Connells
By the end of my freshman year, I met a couple of people in my Acting 101 class, and they invited me to hang out on their hall across campus in Wheeler. These guys were more relaxed, more accepting, and I felt like I could breathe around them a little bit. Finally, I began to feel like I was finding my footing. But the die was cast: I’d let things go for too long to catch up academically. The Wheeler guys invited me to share their house when the whole campus went to Hyannis the week after spring finals, and I went. It was lovely, and they were lovely, and I was beginning to think that I belonged just as I was beginning to realize that I wouldn’t be allowed to come back.
10. “Here’s Where the Story Ends”—The Sundays
Back in St. Louis in May of 1990, I went to check the mail and there was a notice for a piece of certified mail from the 01610 area code. I knew in my heart what was in that envelope and all of the blood ran out of my head and into my stomach. I’d been kicked out. I could apply to
be
one of these people. I pasted a smile on my face and I joked around with people; I was always on. And then I decided I was not only going to be one of these people, I was going to be
the best one of these people.
Light on my feet. Quick with a quip. At every party, at every event, in every bar. I went through a disposable camera a week, making people take photos of me with all my new friends as proof.
Look, I belong here! Look at my friends! Wheee!
I was the last to leave every party because I was afraid that if I left anyone behind, they’d talk to each other and piece me together.
7. “Vogue”—Madonna
I had an impression of an effeminate gay man that I did a lot. A
lot.
Generally, when people do impressions of gay men, which in the twentieth century was a popular thing to do, they give their character a lisp: “Oh, Thergio, thtop it!” they’ll thay. This is simply incorrect, from a linguistic anthropological standpoint. The gay accent—the sound some men make with their voices that marks them as homosexual whether they actually are or not—has no lisp. What it has is a hissing sibilance in the
s.
A sharpness. It is unmistakable, and it is not a speech impediment, and every gay man I have ever met who does not naturally use it in his speech does a spot-on impression of someone who does. It’s necessary for survival in the years before you come out. To do a flawless stereotypical-gay-man impression is to distance yourself from stereotypical gay men, which for all you know means “all gay men.” It is to say: you may suspect me of being homosexual, but here, let me take care of that. Let me do an impression of how ridiculous a real gay man sounds, and then go back to my serious, respectable normal voice, thereby giving you a comparison that proves conclusively that I am not
that.
You see the difference?
It is a thing many of us have done, but it doesn’t make it any nicer to look back on.
8. “Slack Motherfucker”—Superchunk
Being everywhere and everything to everyone took energy, which I replenished by sleeping all day, every day. I never went to class. I skipped lectures, I didn’t read books, and I had no idea what my professors looked like. It was a clear cry for help, but you weren’t supposed to need this kind of help by the time you got to college, so nobody answered. I took a logic class, and I never went, and because I never went, I flunked it, and I failed even to see the perfect logic in that.
9. “Between Something and Nothing”—The Ocean Blue
These were my two speeds: socializing and sleeping. Either I was manically trying to dazzle or I was unconscious. I was doing nothing academically because I had no idea what to do. I changed majors three times: pre-med, pre-law, English. Nothing took. I was sinking in quicksand.
10. “Fun and Games”—The Connells
By the end of my freshman year, I met a couple of people in my Acting 101 class, and they invited me to hang out on their hall across campus in Wheeler. These guys were more relaxed, more accepting, and I felt like I could breathe around them a little bit. Finally, I began to feel like I was finding my footing. But the die was cast: I’d let things go for too long to catch up academically. The Wheeler guys invited me to share their house when the whole campus went to Hyannis the week after spring finals, and I went. It was lovely, and they were lovely, and I was beginning to think that I belonged just as I was beginning to realize that I wouldn’t be allowed to come back.
10. “Here’s Where the Story Ends”—The Sundays
Back in St. Louis in May of 1990, I went to check the mail and there was a notice for a piece of certified mail from the 01610 area code. I knew in my heart what was in that envelope and all of the blood ran out of my head and into my stomach. I’d been kicked out. I could apply to
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