My mother lives the perfect distance away: 300 miles. When I say perfect, I mean that, if she was ever stricken with a medical emergency, I could be at her Winslow, Arizona home in about 4.5 hours; but she's also far enough away to be rendered incapable of signicantly meddling in my life.
Despite my fondness for this space between us, I consider myself to be an exceptional son. Just last week, for example (during "Mother's Day week"), I:
1.) "Put her up" in my home for four days and three nights.
2.) Escorted her to seven different restaurants.
3.) Took her to see one of her favorite "oldies" bands ("The Platters").
4.) Accompanied her out to three movies (Mission Impossible 3, United 93, and The Sentinel)...and
5.) Enjoyed a wonderful lunch with her at the exquisite Mount Charleston Resort Hotel.
We had an amazing, exhilarating time! We both truly look forward to our ongoing, yearly visits--and we always seem to make the most of our time together. So...how come last week (on the last night of her stay) she decided to ask the question that every bachelor (over, say, above the age of thirty) dreads to be asked:
"Are you EVER going to get married?"
And then she followed up with:
"You DO like girls, don't you?"
During our nights out at the movies, I had an uneasy, sinking feeling she was up to no good when she began asking the most peculiar questions:
("The Sentinel")
Mom: Kiefer Sutherland sure is handsome, don't you think?
Me: What?
Mom: Don't you think Kiefer Sutherland is good-looking?
Me: Umm...sure, I guess. But I kind of have my eyes on Eva Longoria at the moment.
("Mission Impossible 3")
Mom: Do you think Tom Cruise has gotten better looking with age?
Me: Mom, to me he's just the same ol' Tom Cruise from "Top Gun" and "Interview With The Vampire." I don't care about his looks. Plus he just seems WEIRD in so many ways..
I can't be mad at her, though. Over the years, probably hundreds of folks have questioned--whether out loud, or to themselves--my orientation. And it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why:
1.) I 've never been married.
2.) I've never fathered a child (I'm about 97% sure).
3.) I live alone.
4.) For about thirty years, I lived in the most openly-gay region in the United States (San Francisco's Bay Area).
5.) I'm articulate and respectful towards women.
6.) I rarely get serious with women with whom I work--therefore many of them write me off as being "not into girls."
7.) I smile a lot.
8.) I dress well and have a decent sense of style.
9.) I've been "best friends" with people who happen to be gay...and
10.) I love to sing..
And that's about it. Oh ya, at work I recently interacted with a particularly assertive telecom employee swatter (literally, one who swats promotional brochures in your face)--"Aimee"--who angrily proclaimed "I KNOW YOU'RE GAY because of the way you like to chit-chat with the other girls around here!"
Aimee and I don't get along. She represents one wireless corporation and I represent several; and as a result thereof, we often argue. So maybe I do "chit-chat" with my female co-workers every now and then--so what? I attribute that quality to my being comfortable around women.
But the reason why so many others apparently think I'm gay remains a mystery. Could it be that I'm unknowingly doing something that leads people to question my sexuality--something that even my own mother has noticed??
I speak in a fairly deep voice...so that can't be it. I wear original Polo cologne, which is more masculine-smelling than the citrusy scents that are currently in style...so that can't be it either. I walk "normal," albeit somewhat bowlegged. And I sure as heck never stare at men. Yes, there are copies of Men's Health magazines lying around my house--and they all feature "buffed" guys on their covers--but so what? I enjoy their articles.
Now that I'm thinking about it, though, I believe I now know what mom's probing is all about. About three years ago, my blunt-talking, older friend/fellow employee "Tanya" loudly narrowed it down for me, during the heat of a workplace argument:
Tanya: You know what your problem is?
Me: No, I don't, Tonya..and what makes you think I have a problem?! What is YOUR problem?!
Tanya: You act nicer to the guys than you do the girls!
She was right. But I couldn't explain to her that acting somewhat aloof towards women has been my secret to attracting women for years!
Look, we men are in many ways "tameable," and plenty of us seek to be tamed--either consciously or not--by the right woman. Lots of women believe this concept too that "no matter how lost a man may become, the right woman is capable of 'fixing' him." Just open up any romance novel (because they're basically all the same), and see for yourself:
1.) "Bad boy" meets woman.
2.) "Bad boy" falls in love with woman, mends his ways and becomes the "perfect man" because of her....and
3.) "Perfect man" and woman live happily ever after.
Listen up, guys: If you're too kind to a woman from Day #1, she'll almost always write you off as being "nice, but boring." She'll friend zone you. Just think about it: Why are so many women attracted to "bad boy" types such as gang members, alcoholics, drug-addicts, inmates, and those who commit domestic violence? Because they truly believe that (through the power of their feminine charms) they are capable of transforming many of these lost male souls into...the perfect man.
And that's why I tend to act a bit distant towards women to whom I'm attracted. While in their presence, I'm consciously and deliberately tuning down my excitement level.
I've found that this slow but steady approach works well in social situations too. In a bar, for example, beautiful women can be seen being hovered around by interested men. But if, say, someone like me walks into that bar, sits down, and appears to ignore those same beautiful women--then there's a very good chance that one of them will eventually come to me and start a conversation.
The fact that I appeared not to be interested made me a rebel--a real man--and therefore a viable, potential and worthy romantic candidate in her eyes. A "bad boy" of sorts.
So, now I understand mom's suspicions a bit more: During all our recent frolicking about here in Las Vegas, I never once behaved kindly towards any of the beautiful women with whom we encountered (waitresses, hostesses, tourists, etc.)--for the exact reasons stated above. I secretly wanted those beautiful women to wonder "hmmm....I wonder why HE isn't making a fuss over me like most men do?"
But I could never explain all this to my mother. She just wouldn't get it. She's two generations older than me--and, to her, if a man likes a woman, he persists, persists, persists until he either "gets her" or she winds up with someone else.
Things are so much more complex, subtle and implied these days, though. The next time I see mom, maybe I'll just quit trying to convince her otherwise, play into her little game, and pretend I'm gay.
