lu strin i
iV
may 19, 2000 <
COMMENTARY
M arty D avis
by
The IN publication for the OUT population
F ounded 1983 • J ay B rown
V o 1. 1 7 N o .
and
R enée L a C hance
1 4 M ay
19, 2000
FEATURES
SHE'S SOT HER M OJO GOING: Portland musician
Lynn Frances Anderson plays well with others
p 21
NEWS
NORTHWEST - Sexual Minorities Roundtable to
host weekend forum; police enlist community
to stop public sex in East Delta Park; looking
back at the Tunnel o f Love ; Sisters of the Road
gears up for annual auction; Ashland newspaper
prints gay “wedding” announcement; David
Lane is everyone’s neighbor; BRO already in
action against OCA ballot proposal; report from
Oregon Bi Conference 2000
pp 7 - 1 5
NATIONAL • AIDS declared national security
threat; hundreds of pro-gay demonstrators
an-ested at United Methodist Church conference
p 16
WORLD • French army extends welcome to
queers; police attempt to shut down Lebanese
gay Internet site
p 19
ENTERTAINM ENT
& CULTURE
THEATER. Queers abound—and sing— in
Falsettos
P 33
MUSIC • Dougher rocks; Davis tickles
pp 3 4 - 3 5
ROOKS * Writings on gay cinema, plus gay
Fiction
p 36
CULTURE* Behind the music: queer DJs
P 39
Advice and consent
Publisher seeks semantically safe sanctuary in search for personal growth
(navigator, shmavigator— she’s looking for a therapist)
n ongoing theme in these commentaries of late has been
my emphasis (read: obsession) on planning for the future,
planning for change and planning to plan, plan, plan.
Recently it has been brought to my attention that such a
need for planning could possibly be construed as (gasp!
horror! shock!) my having “control issues.”
Oh no, please, say it ain’t so! Not me! Control issues, surely not. 1 just
like to plan, be prepared, be ready— you know, be in control.
Oops!
Truth be known, 1 don’t always have to plan things to death. In fact,
there are times when 1 absolutely cherish the
notion of having nary a whit of a plan. At least
once a year, more often if I plan properly, I take off
on a weeklong journey of adventure with my
beloved gas-eating, import-smashing, fire-breath
ing, stay-out-of-my-way Ford Explorer SUV. The
absolutely singular mandated plan of these adven
tures is that there be no plan whatsoever.
Last year I pulled out of my driveway with the
vague notion in mind that I was headed off to see
the great national parks of southern Utah. A few
days later, 1 found myself happily wandering the
back roads of Glacier National Park.. .in Montana.
I couldn’t even begin to tell you how I got there,
which roads I took, which towns 1 saw or even
where I stayed. It was just a week of go with the
flow and see where that flow takes you.
Each and every year these trips bring me
^ ^
/ *
immeasurable happiness and joy. My total, absolute lack of planning
allows me the freedom to visit wondrous places, meet kindred souls and
see sights that no one would ever actually plan to see.
The tool for these trips is my cherished collection of maps. 1 love my
maps...they tell you everything— where you are, where you ought to be,
and how to get from the former to the latter. They are effective and nec-
essary tools for charting the mazes of unfamiliar territory. They can help
you avoid being lost and, if and when you get lost anyway, they show you
the way to where you should be. They are the navigator, the guide, they
assist with the journey. They help you arrive safely and in one piece. They
enhance the journey.
I’ve recently come to realize that I need to incorporate more aspects of
these annual trips into the routines of my daily life. While I’ll probably
never have the freedom of starting each morning without knowing where
I’ll be at day’s end, I have come to believe that each day should include a
little more flexibility, a little more openness, a little more ability to change
course willingly and, most importantly of all, recog
nition that I must, now and then, allow others to
join in the journey. And when I’m feeling lost, or
perhaps not entirely comfortable with where I am,
that’s the time to consider bringing aboard a tool, a
guide, a navigator.
While there’s little need for an actual road map
for the routes and routines of day-to-day life, I have
concluded that even though I don’t need a map I
still require the guidance of a navigator of a different
nature. I know where I am, right here and now, but
just like the trip to Montana I can’t really tell you
how I got here. And most important of all, I realize
that I have no idea where I am headed...and cer
tainly no clue as how to get there— wherever
“there" turns out to be. And so, with the reluctance
of many a lost traveler, I’m finally going to stop and
ask for directions. I’m going to get some help with
mapping out the route of my life.
Many schools of thought agree that we get to make our life’s journey
only once. I want to make my one trip the very' best it can be. I suspect
that there are a few rough roads ahead, a few detours, a bit of doubling
back and lots of curves and switchbacks. I’ll keep you posted on how the
trip is going— where I’m at...am I having fun...am I there yet?
REFLECTIONS
DIVERSIONS. Cirque du fantastique; queer
prom; Dirty Pictures
p 41
YOU R£AU'Z£) 0FC0Uft?£
YOU’LL HAV£ T O 6 £ T
CIRCOMClSeP FIR ST...
COLUMNS
oy
OHTWORO * Responding to racism
vev...
p 42
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