1
HUMOR
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Ya gotta have friends
he thought first occurred to me while
vacationing in Palm Springs. Floyd and 1
were at INNdulge— the kind of resort
where you lie around the pool naked and
talk about the first thing that pops up— when a
Methodist minister in booty shorts was
extolling the virtues o f the Internet. “ 1 just
adore Web-camming!” he crowed. “ It’s all about
the come and go.”
(I can’t know for certain, hut I don’t think
that’s something a straight person would ever say.)
I personally believe in putting the “out
there” in being out.
You’d have to he
arranging flowers in
heels and singing show
tunes to get much
gayer than me. Yet,
when I was at
INNdulge I noticed
the subtle ways in
which I’m apt to cen
sor myself in the
straight world, like
hesitating to take my
partner’s hand or call
him “honey” in public.
by M arc Acito
And in that moment I
realized the power of an all-gay environment.
Now, Floyd and I had long lamented the
fact that we didn’t have a gay clique. We had
gay friends, but they were scattered among the
straights like rainbow sprinkles in a box of
plain doughnuts. So it was at our annual Gay
Pride party last year that we decided to form
our own clique.
The event coincided with our neighbor’s
birthday party for his 3 -year-old. One lone
fence separated a pack of screaming children
T
The Divine Secrets of the Yum-Yum Brotherhood
from a pack o f screaming queens. Undaunted,
Floyd sought out other gay men who were lone
rangers— interesting men who were interested
in others hut somehow set apart.
By evening’s end he had formed a gang of
seven, some o f whom didn’t even know each
other hut had essentially signed up to he
friends the way you sign up for a pottery class.
We quickly realized, however, that we actually
have a lot more in common than just our desire
to connect. I’m not talking about mutual inter
ests, although we have lots. Like jugglers, we try
to keep as many topics in the air as we can, rang
ing from the political (ganging up on the token
Republican is our favorite contact sport) to the
penile (“Is cum a protein or a carbohydrate ?”).
No, it turns out that the thing we most have
in common is what kept us from being part of a
group to begin with: We were all used to being
the center of attention. And we’re all adept at
commanding it (or at least manipulating it).
Thus, there are a number of birthday parties
in which the honoree is virtually ignored and
so many people sing the harmony on “ Happy
Birthday” there’s no one left on the melody. If
you want center stage with this cast, you have
to fight for it.
Eventually we each stopped being the sun
at the center of our own universes and instead
became one of the planets revolving around a
group identity— what we call the Yum-Yum
Brotherhood.
The Gospel
According
lo M arc
The P o r t l a n d Spi r i t P r e s e nt s . . .
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GAY
ULTRA
LOUNGE
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Jo in us a bo ard
P o rtla n d ’s only
flo a tin g nightclub,
fea tu rin g The
N ancy B oy Tenors
an d special hostess,
Poison Waters.
******
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,
The Nancy Boy Tenors ~ Friday, June i8th
Boarding at 10:45pm /Cruising 11:00pm to 1:30am
$16 advance/$20 at door (Adults 2 1+ only)
$8 one-time hors d’oeuvre buffet
C all (503) 224-3900
or
P trtU a J
(800) 224-3901
Visit www.portlaridspirit.com
A
s new boyfriends and friends have entered
the atmosphere, they, too, have been swept
into the gravitational pull. Some appear
infrequently like Haley’s Comet; some flame
out like meteors. Others join the orbit and go
round and round with us. Always at the center,
however, is the notion of the Yum-Yums.
We’ve become so close that nothing is too
personal or sacred that it can’t he shared— and,
more importantly, mercilessly
mocked. A s friends we all adhere
to the adage that tact is for people
who aren’t witty enough to be
sarcastic. For instance, the
story of Marco’s Tuna
Meltdown— the fit I
pitched in a Canadian
sushi bar— has become
a favorite legend to
repeat, a running joke
1 will never live down.
But the Tale of the
Tuna exemplifies in a
peculiar, dare I say fishy,
way the transformative power
of community. I showed my
worst, most neurotic self to
my friends, and they came
hack with equal measures of
love and ridicule.
It’s not that straight
people are incapable of
doing that for a gay person— it’s just that we
bring an extra layer of comfort, understanding
and bitchiness.
Speaking of bitchiness, this is the time of
year when some queers carp about the validity
of Pride parades, asking why we need solidarity
as a community. But as the first Year of the
Yum-Yums comes to a close, I can tell you that
being part of a queer community has been,
well, out of this world.
And that, my friends, is The Gospel
According to Marc. J H
M a rc A cito s first novel, How I Paid for
College, will be [mblished in September. Write him
at marc@marcacito.com.