Dear Jodie

Jodie-FosterI love Jodie Foster.

Some people quote the Bible, or lines from their favourite books, or lyrics from a song. I quote Silence of the Lambs. I mean, just the sight of sunblock has me screaming “it rubs the lotion on its skin and puts it in the basket!” I’ve followed Jodie’s career most of my life, and along with cheering all her amazing accomplishments, in roles like my beloved Silence, Taxi Driver, The Hotel New Hampshire, and the Accused to name a few, I’ve forgiven her for the seemingly unforgiveable, like continuing to hire Mel Gibson when no one else would touch his racist, homophobic, misogynistic ass, and for Panic Room, a movie I actually liked but one that will forever be marred for inflicting the wooden depths of Kristen Stewart’s “acting chops” upon an unsuspecting world. So as I watched her rather mesmerizing speech at the Golden Globe awards, I wondered was THIS something for which I could proudly cheer her on, or scream in horror “oh no, she’s pulled a MEL… again!”

Seems the answer’s actually both

See, as much as I love Jodie, I love lesbians. Over the years, lesbians have been some of my bestest friends. Those gals can drink like truck drivers, make great wingmen at bars, and are wicked spotters at the gym. And truth be told, I’ve been accused more than once of having some pretty strong lesbian sensibilities myself, with my love of short hair and hoodies, cargo shorts and aviators, beer samplers and junior hockey, Wonder Woman Barbies and She-Ra, Princess of Power, and the musical stylings of Alanis and la Goddess Tori Amos…. but come on, DAMN, you have to admit, those sapphic sisters know where it’s AT.

Just this past year, we’ve had a rush of casual gay MALE coming out stories in Hollywood (I’m looking at YOU Zachary Quinto!). Celebs like Zachary or Big Bang’s Jim Parsons will now suddenly drop a line or two seven paragraphs into a small magazine story (something about their organic vegetable shopping spree at the local market with their male partner of a zillion years, then shrug it off and talk about their next indie role). Now with all due respect to Ellen and Portia, the way I see it, it’s the ladies turn. And after a near miss a few months back (I’m looking at YOU Queen Latifah!) I held my breath, thinking Jodie was going to do IT. You know, become this year’s Anderson. Sort of.

And then she did. Sort of.

Yes, in a six and a half minute rambling yet elegant, “am I missing the inside joke here?” to “she really gets me!” kind of speech, Jodie gave up one of the worst kept secrets in Hollywood and “came out”, noting she’d first done so back in the stone age to “trusted friend and family….then gradually to everyone who knew her, everyone she actually MET.” Now to me, that sentence alone says a lot about our society and its’ celebrity obsession, and our need to know the most intimate and secret details of the Hollywood crowd we so admire. Our Jodie is NOT Honey Boo Boo as she noted….her life and the life of her family is not some goofy reality show for our daily amusement and consumption. So bugger off, she’s saying, let me live out my fifty but still smokin’ and currently single life in peace.

Now some people are of the mindset that, as a celebrity, one gives up the right to a private life….that everything you do, everyONE you do, should be public knowledge. Not so I say. I work with kids with behavioural issues and with their parents on developing strategies to deal with said behavioural issues. Most days I love my job, and if I must say so myself, I’m really good at it. But that doesn’t mean that, when at Costco let’s say, I should drop my jar of pickles the size of my head and rush over to intervene when some little seven-year old darling baby boy is screaming he wants the new rated M for mature Call of Duty game while his mama is screaming “STOP THAT OR WE’RE LEAVING RIGHT THIS MINUTE!!” even though I know 1) she has no intention of leaving ’til she gets that latest Fifty Shades knock off and 2) junior will smugly get whatever he wants just to SHUT HIM UP! And sure enough, fifteen minutes later baby boy is clutching his killer game while machine gunning the massive hot dog lineup mama has dropped everything for and is now waiting in, just to get him a jumbo sausage with extra ketchup. No, as much as I sometimes want to, I won’t step in. I gave at the office, so to speak, and so, in my twisted logic kind of way, has Jodie.

I want to celebrate Jodie’s speech. I want to say “Hey,my sistahs! Finally you can give Ellen a break and get a new poster girl! For realz this time!” But there’s something about the vagueness of her message that doesn’t sit well with me. Because being vague implies that maybe there’s something there that should remain hidden, something that is still shameful to just admit. By flirting with the rumours, then addressing them in such a roundabout way, doesn’t make Jodie the role model I want her to be. But only part of me feels that way. Because listening to Jodie’s message, really LISTENING, I realize her words just make her seem more human, more real to me. And it makes me think of my own experiences and those of friends and how, as gay people, we’re almost constantly “coming out” to people. We constantly feel this pressure to take the spotlight and make this great proclamation about our lives. A need to explain away the important people in our lives, to defend who and what we are. To define our own “modern families”. Scarlett Johanson isn’t pressured to grab a mic and shout “I am a man-eating HOE and you are my next victim!” Ryan Gosling isn’t forced to say “watch out! I WILL sleep with your woman cuz I’m a big ol’ hetero STUD!” So in that respect why must Jodie shout from the mountaintops that she not so secretly wants to do Megan Fox? It’s because we insist upon it. We save those precious moments of full public disclosure for the queers among us. And so, on that note, BRAVO to Jodie for taking her own road. I’ll respect her coming out story. Because it’s her story, and all stories are different. And I won’t treat her life as a reality show, because unlike Honey Boo Boo, that’s not how Jodie rolls.

To be honest though, I can’t promise I won’t obsess over Jodie’s love life, especially if she soon bags a hot celebrity girlfriend. Because, after last night, one thing Jodie truly confirmed….she is one fine smokin’ hot single lesbian. And an “on the market” available one at that.

Summer Lovin’! Or Fifty Shades of Gay!

As I strolled along the beautiful Halifax waterfront one recent sunny afternoon, I couldn’t help but notice a rather large number of smiling, hand holding couples that clearly did not fit Joey’s Rule of Three. You remember Friends Joey, and his philosophy that you could only date someone 3 points away from yourself, meaning if you were a 10 you couldn’t date anyone below a 7 (you could, however, date two 4s!) Everywhere I looked there were these gorgeous super models being trailed by some ridiculous looking skater boi, naughty librarians arm in arm with some sweaty muscled tattooed biker type, elderly grandfathers taking their young granddaughters for an ice cream treat….oh, wait, that’s not her grandfather. Least I HOPE that’s not her grandfather. (Ewww!)

Um, anyway, all around me, these strange, not so wonderful, goes against nature couplings were happening. And stifling the urge to grab any random girl, point to Quasimodo at her side and scream “DEAR GOD WOMAN, HAVE YOU SEEN HIM!?!” I was instead left to ponder why. WHAT could be the cause of all this bizarre summer loving? What could make cupid’s arrow go so astray that Miss California with the perfectly tanned skin, beached blonde hair and seriously surgically enhanced boobs would ever comtemplate engaging in some serious tongue action with pimply faced creepy ginger Super Nerd in the way too skinny skinny jeans? Did they not watch Friends, and learn those valuable life lessons from Joey Tribiani the way I did?

No, the desperate lack of Friends reruns was NOT the true culprit. Seems a poor girl simply had no choice but to settle nowadays. The true dastardly villain in all this was our SOCEITY itself. Because when you look at love and relationships in our world today, it seems you have two choices: you can either go all gay, or be willing to go all freaky. Otherwise, get ready to settle for Not So Mr Right But What The Hell.
Yup, it’s the Rise of the Gays, and Fifty Shades of Grey…THAT’S what’s wrong with love these days!

Just last week I was at Rainbow (they just don’t call it Rainbow for nothing!) Haven Beach and watched two young guys who mistakenly thought they were in some extended Abercrombie & Fitch commercial. Seated next to a gaggle of pretty girls that were far too busy talking about the really important things in life like the high cost of sunless tanners, hair extensions and what tattoos placed strategically where were likely to piss daddy off the most, these two lovebirds frolicked and played in the ocean waves before rolling around lip locked and tongue tired (literally) on the beach. Biting my lip so as not to scream “YO, SISTERS, GET A ROOM!” I was dumbfounded to discover that no one seemed to really notice or care about this serious case of boy on boy way too much PDA action. And why should we care? Queer life is becoming so commonplace it’s as if the straight world is now becoming desensitized to it. With my arch-nemesis Anderson Cooper as only the latest example, everywhere you look in Hollywood these days (just ask ol’ Perez Hilton!), you’ll see gays on parade. Hell, you can’t even open a comic book without seeing big gay X-Men weddings, or a Green Lantern macking on a dude! Coming out’s not only becoming more socially acceptable….it’s downright desirable. EVERYBODY wants to be queer…so much so that next thing you know, some poor girl’s going to cute meet a nice boy at Starbucks,or make flirty eyes with some handsome guy at the grocery store, and suddenly mystery boy’s going to sashay up in his neatly pressed khakis, too cool Ray Bans and tight black polo and instead of grinning and slyly suggesting a phone number he’ll say “oooh LOVE love your shoes, can I try them on?” or “that Channing Tatum….he NEEDS to call me!” And suddenly, before you know it, all these pretty girls will have their own pocket gay that they’ll stuff into some oversized designer bag and tote about, telling their girlfriends over martinis that “well, the sex life sure sucks, but DAMN that boy knows how to shop and accessorize!”

Then there’s Fifty Shades of Grey.
Now, I’m a big reader. I love books, and I’ve always thought that, regardless of what it is, anything that gets people to read is a good thing. But then I met the Twilight series, and came to realize that’s not so true. So finding out that Fifty Shades of Grey actually originated as fan fiction based on the Twilight series was almost slightly traumatic. I mean, just when you think the world couldn’t get a WORSE role model then Bella, here comes Anastasia Steele and her literal doormat self. But truth be told, I don’t care about the explicit sex scenes, or the BDSM aspects (different strokes for different folks…well, very HARD strokes in this case apparently!) And although, indeed, I doI find it troubling that that the story paints an unhealthy, unrealistic portrait of a relationship with one partner totally dominant over the other as this ideal, that’s not my biggest issue with it. What I find most offensive is THE BAD WRITING! When I recently watched a rather creepy exchange between a grandmother and a store clerk at Chapters as they excitedly panted about the storyline, I was horrified to hear the grandmother’s bubble gum snapping 14 year old granddaughter proudly proclaim “yeah, and when she’s done reading it, I’m gonna read it too!” And as my mind reeled in horror over the very thoughts, it wasn’t at the mature content these impressionable young lass would be exposed too, but the terrifically bad grammar and poor storytelling! “Put the book down and step away!” I wanted to scream! “Go watch Dallas…its back! Go live vicariously through the Real Housewives of Vancouver!” Just STOP READING THIS STUFF!!” I mean, who knew if this poor girl’s literary IQ would ever recover from the damage between those pages??

Or, as someone recently pointed out to me, if women everywhere aren’t careful, someone’s going to get hurt doing that shit.

Hmm. A self help book isn’t a bad idea. And if I combine that and the world’s other latest obsession…

That’s IT….FIFTY SHADES OF GAY!

Wow, a million seller if I ever heard one!
Oh my! Me go now. Must get bad writing! Me be RICH! 🙂

When Anderson Cooper Came Out

Many times in the past when faced with that question “so what DO you do for a living?” I’ll launch into a convoluted explanation and then, recognizing that baffled look, sum it up as “I work with kids with behavioural problems and try to put ’em on the straight and narrow”. When asked how I came to do this work, I describe it as a happy accident (well, sometimes I think it’s happy!) but then I follow it up with “but really, it’s not what I was ever MEANT to do….I’m REALLY supposed to be reporting to you from some far off corner of the world live on CNN.”

Or, in other words, I was SUPPOSED to be Anderson Cooper, and that guy is living my life.

Anderson and I have had a love/hate relationship ever since we “met” also known as ever since he first graced my TV screen back in ’01.) I remember being pretty riveted by his coverage of 9/11, and then I started watching any and all of his TV appearances, bought his book, read his magazine articles…you know, began to closely follow his career. But lately I’ve begun to wonder….perhaps it’s Anderson that’s following ME.

I mean, we’ve both gone through our preppy stage, later learning to rock the polo and jeans look with a revolving pair of even more fabulous shoes each time. When I started going prematurely grey and had a receding hairline resulting in a billboard forehead, guess who went all silver foxy and grew a brow you could watch an IMAX flick on? And sure, Anderson has travelled to war-torn countries and reported on the state of affairs in places like Iraq and Afghanistan, but guess who’s
braved lunch meetings and had to fight the masses for the very last piece of meat lovers pizza, all the while evading those dieters who you just knew would love to claw your eyes out for even one discarded slice of hot pepperoni? And let’s not even talk about the lingering post traumatic stress from diving in the cooler for the sole can of Diet Pepsi!

But Anderson’s latest antics are simply the straw that broke the camel’s back! Years ago I came “out” to my sisters in an e-mail, I think partly describing some long forgotten boy I was infatuated with at the time, but ultimately telling them I was happy and content in my life, and at the end of the day the same ol’ me they’d always known (that exasperating, attention seeking, never stops talking brother from the same mother I’d always been.) So yeah…guess who writes a casual email to a friend, stating “fact is, I’m gay, always have been, always will be, and couldn’t be more happy with myself, comfortable, proud.” Well let me tell you…THAT sounds a bit familiar! So call it what you will – parallel lives, copy-catting, or, full-out Colin-wannabe – it seems once again I feel some kinship to good ol’ Anderson.

But, despite my frustrations with what can only be described as a clear invasion of my privacy by the AC and his 360 crowd, truth be told I admire Anderson. A lot. And I share many of the sentiments he’s expressed in the past week since he took these brave steps. For me, being gay didn’t define me, still doesn’t. But undeniably it’s a part of me, a big part of who I am as a person, what I’ve become as a man. But for a long time I struggled with WHY that piece should be so relevant, so present. Hetero friends didn’t introduce themselves by saying “by the way, I’m straight”. Friends of color didn’t say “in case you didn’t notice, i’m black”. I didn’t understand at the time why I should qualify things with “I’m Colin. And I’m GAY!” But with age and maturity (HA! Me, mature?) I’ve come to feel differently. Nowadays, I feel it’s important to be “out there”, to be visible. To be a valuable, contributing, upstanding citizen of the planet – a guy just like a lot of other guys – who just so HAPPENS to be gay. About a year or so ago, my partner Shawn and I were visiting my family in Cape Breton, and had taken my cute as a button little nephew Kyle for ice cream. Kyle and I are very close, and he’s stayed with Shawn and I on a few occasions for vacations and what he calls “sleepover adventures”. He’s young….I’m sure he can’t “define” what Shawn and I are to one another, but he knows we’re “together”, much like his mommy and daddy, or his Aunt Donna and Uncle Gord. He knows we live together, we do most things together, we share a home and even a bedroom together…and I think he’s bright enough to know we’re all “family” to each other. We’d been on outings with Kyle in the past – especially when I’m “home” in CB – where I imagined people looked at the three of us and tried to “figure us out”. There’s enough of a family resemblance between Kyle and I that some people have even mistaken me for his dad, so I know at least folks would get we’re related, but I’m sure in some ways Shawn’s a mystery. Is he a cousin, a friend, or – GASP – could those fellers be QUEER? This particular night we ran into a woman from Kyle’s school, and as they greeted each other, she said “your uncle may not remember, but I knew him when he was growing up too”. Kyle looked a bit confused, glanced at Shawn and I and then back to this lady and said “But….they’re both my uncles!” We laughed at the time, but I’ll never forget that night, those words, that pure moment seen through this innocent little boy’s eyes.

In a perfect world, gay/straight, black/white, male/female….none of it will matter. But it’s not a perfect world. And whatever advances we’ve made as a society in regards to inclusion and equality, we still face many challenges, many obstacles, many long roads ahead. THAT part no one can deny. But as Anderson noted, standing up and being counted matters for something. And fine…if he MUST continue to model himself after me, (I’ll admit he gets a bit more attention then I), if even one kid sees him on TV, one young person struggling with being bullied or put down for who they are, for feeling weird or feeling different, and they look to Anderson and aren’t just told but clearly SEE that it does get better, that someday soon they’ll be free to “love, and be loved” whoever they choose, then all this copying will be for some greater good.

Hmmm. Wonder after he reads this if we can drop the pretense and he can just hire me as his stand in. (Well he’d THINK I’m HIS stand in. We won’t tell him otherwise!!)

Yo Anderson, you listening? 🙂