Short Stories 365/134

“Rhinestone Magic” by J. R. Greenwell from Saints and Sinners 2014: New Fiction from the Festival (Bold Strokes Books).

 Full disclosure: I have a story in this anthology.

This story is tamer than the author’s entry last year (For my review of that story see Short Stories 365/122). Main character Eddie isn’t a drag queen, and he isn’t getting up to any over-the-top, late night shenanigans. He has returned home hoping to secure the blessing of his parents before he marries the man he loves.

I’ll admit it caught me a little off guard. I kept waiting for all hell to break loose. I thought for sure it was going to happen when he meets Nicky, the new music director from his parents’ church, and recognizes him from back in the city, where the latter is a drag performer, but no. Adept at picking up clues from his environment, Eddie immediately notes the vibe he gets from the other, but even after it clicks and he realizes where he knows him from, he reveals it quietly. Privately. He’s actually impressed with the transformation Nicky has wrought in his mother and their down-the-way neighbor Ida Simpson, and what he hears about his father these days. The older adults seem more confidant and a whole lot happier than he remembers. And anyway, he has his own agenda to worry about, remember? He wants his parents’ blessing, and he makes real strides toward getting it by the story’s end, in part because of Nicky’s influence. It’s a heartwarming little tale, and it makes me even more eager than I already was to read the author’s short story collection Who in the Hell is Rachel Wells? (Chelsea Station Editions, 2013).

Short Stories 365/60

“Victoria” by Erik Orrantia from Foolish Hearts: New Gay Fiction (Cleis Press, 2014).

Daniel and Osvaldo have spent decades carving out a place for themselves in rural Mexico, sharing the hard work of running a cattle ranch while dodging the suspicions of their fellow ranchers about the true nature of their relationship. Daniel is content with the life they’ve made, but Osvaldo has serious concerns about their security. His fears have been stoked by the recent death of his sister’s common-law husband, which left her penniless. Also recently, a Federal District judge has ruled same-sex marriages lawful in Mexico. Now Osvaldo is dropping hints to Daniel that to protect themselves they should make their union legal, but Daniel, wary of upsetting a hornet’s nest, keeps sidestepping those hints.


Short Stories 365/57

“How To Be Single At A Wedding” by David Puterbaugh, from Foolish Hearts: New Gay Fiction (Cleis Press, 2014)

Friends Natalie and Peter are the Best Man and Maid of Honor for her brother Brian’s wedding to Jason, and the only single people attending the event. Nervous and tipsy from complimentary champagne, Natalie decides to blog about her many experiences as the member of a wedding party (hence the story’s title). As she types, she and Peter each reflect on their failure to find the sort of love Brian and Jason enjoy.

I thought the moral of the story was going to be spelled out via the bullet points Natalie lists in her blog post, but no. It also wasn’t delivered with the back stories of the characters, nor was the end of the story tied with a bow. I wasn’t expecting that, but I can certainly appreciate it. As I’ve previously noted, I have a friend and former boss who likes to say art should ask questions, not provide answers. This story follows that rule.

This isn’t a feel-good tale chronicling how two people meet and start to fall in love. It’s about two people who yearn for romance and lasting love, who see and appreciate it in the lives of their friends and family and fear they will never find it for themselves. As the main character notes, there are no guarantees in life.

All that being said, it’s still a romantic story because two of the characters presented in it have found true love. And it’s not at all maudlin. You’re left with a sense of hopefulness –  surely these people who appreciate love and recognize it all around them will eventually find it – and also with the strong desire to turn the page and experience a neat, storybook ending.

Short Stories 365/56

“Hello Aloha” by Tony Calvert, Foolish Hearts: New Gay Fiction edited by Timothy J. Lambert and R. D. Cochrane (Cleis Press, 2014).

This sweet story is a great opener to this collection and one of several that, not too surprisingly, use a same-gender wedding as a setting.

The main character, Jory, is the best man at his friend Chad’s wedding, which is not simply Disney-themed but located inside a Disney theme park. Chad has invited no less than seven eligible bachelors to the event in the hopes that one of them will hit it off with Jordan. But, still reeling from a bad breakup a year ago, Jordan is having none of Martin’s matchmaking. He prefers to spend his time cracking sardonic jokes to a theme park employee dressed as Goofy, who’s stationed nearby. The performers are forbidden from speaking to the park guests or in any way breaking character while in costume, of course, which makes venting to one of them capitalism’s spin on the Catholic confessional. You talk, the character listens, and there’s no assigning of Hail Marys afterward.

The thing Jory doesn’t count on is that Goofy is only human.

Short Stories 365/28

“Henry and Jim” by J M Snyder, originally published in Best Gay Romance 2008 (Cleis Press).

This is the story of two men who have been each other’s everything for a lifetime. Partners. Lovers. Husbands in every way except legally, because that wasn’t a possibility. They’ve sewn their lives together quietly and deeply, and been accepted by those around them. They have had decades of the best stuff life has to offer: true love. But now Jim is fading away, forgetting everything, and Henry is struggling to come to grips with that reality. This story is beautifully told but very bittersweet. You will cry, and your heart will ache, and hopefully after you put it down you will better appreciate the love you have, provided you are lucky enough to have a love like Henry and Jim’s.

A little publicity


A little publicity

Cover of the latest issue of the quarterly company newsletter.

Be the Change. Always the goal.

Kentuckiana Pride Parade 2013


It’s the morning after the Kentuckiana Pride Parade and, as usual, I am left pondering a Zen koan:

If a tree falls in the forest but no one is around to hear it, does it really make a sound?

We have four local television stations. The one with the hour-long telecast that comes on at 10pm gave last night’s parade thirty seconds of dour-faced airtime in which they related the facts – there was a parade downtown, it had a theme (United in Love), some people showed up.

The second station, with only a thirty minute broadcast, gave it fifteen smiling seconds.

I believe the third didn’t cover it at all. I can only watch so many stations at once. I know there was nothing in the three hours of re-broadcast news they aired this morning, because I DVR’d and scanned through all three hours.

I’m not sure if the last did, but I’m betting against it because while they do have coverage of it on their website it’s static coverage, not video. It’s essentially a short newspaper article capped by a color photo.  It is, however, the most flattering coverage of all the major news outlets, noting that thousands, not hundreds, of people were in attendance, and quoting several of the participants.

In an odd twist, the Courier-Journal newspaper has video coverage on their site. It’s actually a really nice representation of what the parade/march was like, but the clip is edited to end with an image of the only float I’m aware of with that classic Pride feature: cage dancers. Because of the editing, that’s the image you see when you click to read the headline, and if you don’t play the video, that’s the only image you get outside of the more generic one back out on the main page. Interesting. They also ran the headline, Hundreds turn out for Kentuckiana Pride Parade. Hmm.

This sort of one note, scant coverage – don’t blink or you’ll miss it – always frustrates me. When I first started marching the event took place on Saturday morning. Downtown Louisville was a ghost town on weekends back then, and pretty much still is, especially in the mornings. There were a hundred, maybe a couple hundred, participants and no one to view the thing. So we would march down empty streets, shouting, then have a festival in Central Park, and at night none of the stations would cover it.

Though this isn’t my first rodeo or even my fifth, it is the first year in quite some time that I have marched. First, events in my own life got in the way. I’d been going strong, never missing a year, and then came the year we were set to move into our new house on the weekend of Pride. Let’s just say my proposal that I spend the majority of one of the days marching for social justice instead of schlepping boxes on and off a U-Haul did not go over well.

We did manage to get up to Chicago for Pride that year, though that turned out to be a mixed blessing. We stood on the sidewalk outside the 7-Eleven watching as the firefighters and police and floats by major companies went by, and it actually made me more depressed about the marches back home. Compared to Chicago, Louisville’s Pride seemed to be happening in a vacuum. Sure, we marched, but we were alone.

Shortly after this there was a power struggle among some of the groups here and the march was moved to Friday evening. The rallying point changed, too; it became a bar not a public space. Looking back, I think it was a misperception
on my part, but I felt uninvited. I wasn’t the only one. The friend I would always meet up with at the event and march with took it the same way. Because of it, I began simply attending the festival on the Belvedere on Saturdays. I’ve been pleased to see the attendance at that grow, and the expansion of the number and type of organizations represented, but I felt very distanced from it.

This year, everything’s different. I just got back from the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival in New   Orleans. A story I wrote was just published in their annual anthology. I read a selection from my work at the book launch party and got a lot of nice feedback. I made many new friends, got re-acquainted with an old one, and felt extremely welcome throughout.

And then, last week on Facebook, a call went out from the Fairness Campaign: We need people to walk with us.  So I put on my Fairness tee and I marched. One of the first things I noticed was that the chant has changed. Now in between “What do we want? (Fairness!)” and “When do we want it? (Now!)” there is “Where do we want it? (Kentucky!)” I’m not sure I like that change. First of all, it’s the Kentuckiana Pride Parade. Yelling “Kentucky!” omits Indiana. Secondly, I don’t know about you, but I’m over the whole statewide thing. At my job I screen people for Medicaid eligibility (yes, I really am a socialist*) and periodically we are reminded that it doesn’t matter if according to their state two persons are legally married, we go by federal rules and on a federal level, those people aren’t married.

Lastly, I miss the other slogan we used to chant: “We’re here. We’re queer. Get over it. Get used to it.” I liked that. A lot. It worked for me. But then again, I’m a Sagittarius, and we’re not known for our tact. I’m also from Chicago, which means you get a double-whammy of bluntness.  Have a problem with that? Get over it. Get used to it.

Here’s the thing: If you don’t go to the parade, you don’t experience the parade, because if the media cover it at all, they barely cover it. Fifteen seconds. Thirty seconds. So I was thrilled to see so many people, and so many organizations, marching. Ford; UPS; Humana; Third Lutheran Church; Thomas Jefferson Unitarian Church; the Geek Squad; the IAW; the ACLU and many, many more. And spectators, too, especially as we got closer to Main Street. The area around the Connection nightclub complex was packed, of course, but the sidewalks on other stretches were also filled, lots of middle-of-America types clapping and cheering, waving and smiling, or else with their cellphones out, snapping away or making videos. I hear there were one or two groups of protestors along the way. I never saw them.

Last night and this morning I started to get upset because of the sparsity of traditional media coverage. It seemed the same old, same old. We marched, but who knows that we did? Then I realized – the world has changed. Every one of the people along the route and in the parade was busy uploading images to their Facebook wall, or their blog, or their Pinterest account, where it will be seen and shared by all of their friends. That’s more coverage than any news outlet could ever provide, and more important coverage, too, because it comes with a human face. It says “I support this issue because it affects me and/or people I care about.” I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Harvey Milk was right. If everybody can be made to realize that they know people being discriminated against, things will change. Social media is the key.

A tree fell in a forest, but it wasn’t alone. Thousands of people were there, and they uploaded the video to YouTube, so that millions of people could hear the sound.

*That’s a joke. I see nothing inconsistent with being a member of a democratic country and wanting all citizens to succeed, but apparently some people do.