How Did You Know That Man In the Leather Assless Chaps Was Gay?: A Snapshot Tale of Midwest Retirement

One of the benefits of corresponding with my mother while she enjoys her retirement is that she is hilarious.  For a long time, she has told me about a young gentleman that she has befriended through her church.  Let's call him Felipe.

I have yet to meet Felipe.  However, through my mother's stories, alone, I have come to recognize him as a fellow queer.  What first tipped me off was the initial and simple information that he is not a member of the church that my mother goes to, he just plays the organ in the choir loft. Um, hello...

Next, was the story of how Felipe had stopped hanging out with his friend Michael, who had also become friends with my mother. Every mention of Michael would come about in the sentence, "Felipe's...(pause)...friend, Michael".  Come on, Mom. This is not the 80s.  No one is anyone's "friend" or "housemate" anymore, unless they actually are. 

About a year ago, I was clicking around on Facebook and came across the profiles of both boys.  When I clicked on them, I was met with tank tops and perfectly landscaped facial hair.  The first person listed under their favorite musical artists was Cher.

I could not make this stuff up.

(pause)

Something you should know about my mother is that, like many women of her generation, she is only able to mention illness, misfortunes, divorce and gayness in the hissed tone of a whisper.

So when a few months ago my mother started whispering to me in the privacy of the hotel room we were in for my brother's wedding about how she needed to tell me something about her friend Philipe from church, I just started laughing.

"WHAT is so funny?!", she demanded, stretching her neck out the way she does that makes her look like a chicken stretching for feed.

"He's gay, Mom."

"HOW-DID-YOU-KNOW?" , she accused- scandalized.  I watched her widened eyes study my face to figure out if I had, somehow, met Felipe behind her back.

(pause)

Felipe and I flirt with each other in the way that gay boys do- only having never met, and through my mother.

When I left for the airport from my brother's wedding that weekend, I sent my mother home with a Marc Jacobs lip gloss that makes her eyes pop and told her to ask Felipe if he approved.

A few weeks later, she returned with a story that Felipe wanted her to tell me about how much he loves seeing Cirque du Soleil any chance he gets and that his favorite performer is Pink.

I love knowing that my mother has fags to adorn while in her retirement.

I love hearing about the relationship they have been building with each other, and the joy that it gives her.

And, come the holiday season, I know I will love meeting the Cher-loving star of the Polish National Catholic Church choir loft:

Felipe. 





be well; be loved,

k.