COMMO

Communicating is really a heavy duty issue with the girlfriends. We all mainly try to talk at once and on occasion have to have a monitor. We had such an interesting talk this morning at the gathering of the "girlfriends." It had to do with styles of commo. Michael is the "in your face," adinfiinitum type. We have a little joke that he's suppose to keep me close by so I can say, "what Michael meant to say." Funny and then there is Gary who is of a nature to constantly skate around less they confront, which I understand. The thing that drives me crazy about Gary is that he is constantly giving us what I call his, "I think." Gary, have you asked Joan what she feels about so and so. No, not directly but "I thiink" she feels this way. And, then he takes it as that is the way it is. Funny. And, the flip side of the coin is that we are a bunch of old guys by in large just shooting the breeze.

In most ways, commo is about style. One of the difficult things is that we are all shooting for a balance. I basically believe that all of us would be better mostly if we had straight forward commo where we could discuss things openly. I've read John Powell's book, Why Am I Afraid To Tell You Who I Am several times. He's a priest and this is the first place I'd ever heard this: straight forward communication. It really is what most of life is about if you think about it: in relational issues.

Brokeback Mountain

I made the mistake of telling my "girlfriends I had seen Brokeback Mountain. Well, from then on it is "Katie bar the door" as my Dad would say--one a retired San Fran fireman, one has his own business--a precious jewels dealer and the other a retired CHPs (Highway Patrol) guy. They carried on about me seeing the movie and I had a hard time explaining it. Broken down, it really is merely a story of relationships, just so happens the priciples are men.

Each of the "girlfriends" had wild tales to pass along about gays. I fear slightly homophobic, based on one's definition. The fireman told the story about once when they went down to fight a fire, about eight buildings. One of them contained an S and M place with all the whips, leather, etc.; and, all the participants had pictures, really funny according to my bud.

And, of course, as a macho fireman would, he made a big laughing deal out of all the weirdoes. This led into a discussion of that whole scene from Pulp Fiction. Then the CHPs guy told about three of them chasing a guy into a gay bar in SF and all these guys in leather chaps with their rears hanging out and one guy with a lease, actually three tied around his "just guess" and said it was for him to be their slaves.

I often don't know what to make of such. Of course, in San Fran, the bizarre is normal. The interesting thing about the fireman's story is that some of the gays sued the City because the firemen took the pictures, wouldn't let them back in the place. And, they won. Well, that was fodder for the conversation. Got to love it.