ENOUGH ALREADY

Guess I’m feeling a little disappointed that Pete Buttigieg has ended his run to become the Democratic candidate for president. In my mind, he was always a credible, intelligent candidate with sound policies for moderate minded Democrats (and Independents). I’m not American so it means nothing to say he’d have had my vote. He was knocked by many for being too young and too inexperienced. I think his greatest liability was a lack of charisma, the same Achilles heel of past contenders Walter Mondale, Michael Dukakis and Bob Dole. With the exception of George H.W. Bush, bland doesn’t usually cut it. (This is a country, after all, whose current leader was a reality TV star who is fond of belittling his many, many adversaries with grade-school insults.)

In most realms, lacking charisma is not a bad thing. It can also come with stability, thoughtfulness, loyalty and trustworthiness, all qualities the present American leader sorely lacks. Unfortunately, it seems that many gay men seem to have taken the lack of charisma and twisted it into a criticism that Mayor Pete is not gay enough.

My first reaction to this was, Wait...What?

I always thought that, if you could summon the courage to come out, you’d made it. End of the rainbow. Hello, gayness. Welcome to the LGBTQ community. Sorry, swag bag not included.

Come on out to the next Pride parade. Or stay home. Either way is okay. You’re still gay.

Stream music from one or more of the following divas: Madonna, Gaga, Beyonce, Britney, Kylie, Cher, Sam (Smith). Or don’t. If Drake or Mumford & Sons or Sammy Hagar is more your thing, so be it. (As a courtesy, it might be best to use your ear buds.) Still gay.

Tune in to RuPaul’s Drag Race or The Real Housewives of…, I don’t know...Omaha? In the alternative, if you insist on watching all one hundred sixty-two games of the Yankees regular season or re-watch all eleven seasons of “Duck Dynasty”, don’t save a seat for me. (More beer for you.) Again, the gay thing sticks.

Sorry, there is no gay manual. As far as I know, there isn’t a “How Gay Are You?” quiz you can download from www.advocate.com and score yourself before you take to Twitter and proclaim that you officially reached Liberace Level. (I did find a tongue-in-cheek 2014 Buzz Feed quiz and, whew, I think I only passed after choosing “Big Pretty Rainbow” as a favorite weather phenomenon.)

I’m glad there isn’t a real exam that one must take to earn his gay certification. In my early twenties, I would have probably had to retake the test several times. When I first dared to go to gay bars—and back then I didn’t know of any other places to go in search of guys (supposedly) like me—there was a lot I couldn’t relate to. Ass-less leather chaps looked too drafty. I never wanted to try Ecstasy. I had enough common sense and chronic clumsiness to know that I wouldn’t have a go at strutting down Santa Monica Boulevard in a pair of high heels. My body didn’t seem to fit the gay standard and I couldn’t afford to miss a week of jogging due to a sprained ankle.

It’s true, I’ve never been on Grindr. Still gay. I thought “Brokeback Mountain” was a bit slow. Still gay. I would never go to a concert to watch Britney lip sync for ninety minutes, I don’t own an antique anything, a gay cruise sounds like pure hell (even pre-coronavirus) and I’ve never worn Lycra to the gym. Guess what, folks? I’m a gay man.

Whoever is out there deciding that Pete isn’t gay enough needs to put away the litmus test. It shouldn’t be a news flash that we’re a diverse lot that includes fats, fems, Asians, people of all races, ethnicities, socioeconomic levels, occupations and fashion styles. Some of us come out at fifteen, some at eighty. Some of us don’t even post selfies after a gym workout. Ever. Don’t discount my gayness. Or Pete’s.

I’m not sure I have any more in common with Pete Buttigieg than I do with Sir Elton or Billy Porter or Larry Kramer. I have no military experience, I’m not a Rhodes Scholar, I’ve only taken one brief walk on the Harvard campus, I’ve never held civic office and I, alas, I don’t have a husband. Doesn’t matter. I’m gay, Pete’s gay, Elton’s gay, Billy’s gay, Larry’s gay. Each different but each enough.

Gay is gay.

If you’re gay and Pete Buttigieg’s proposals or his demeanor didn’t appeal to you, so be it. But it strikes me as sad that other gay men would dismiss Pete for not being gay enough. He was unequivocally the gayest candidate out there simply by being the first and the only one. Gayer than Bernie or Joe or Amy or Elizabeth. Gayer than the buffoon currently in the White House.

I’m thankful Pete Buttigieg stepped up. I’m pleased that his being gay didn’t matter so much to (most) voters. I’m proud of how he responded to Rush Limbaugh’s inability to get over Pete kissing his spouse in public and prouder of how he distinguished himself from the president. For many, he is the first public figure that got people seeing beyond the fact he is gay and what kind of sex he has or doesn’t have. He is the first openly gay man to have a go at the nomination of either party.

And that, to me, is more than enough.