No More Empty Fortune Cookies!

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Gay doesn’t Gray?

I've heard that "black don't crack," but did you know that gay doesn't gray? Well, according to The Family Research Council, that's the case. I wish someone would tell my increasingly numerous silvery locks that tidbit. Tony Perkins, of TFRC, posits that since the gay "movement is only a few decades old," there are no elderly homosexuals running around. He says this is because the people who are of the 80+ age range grew up without acceptance of homosexuality, they would not have identified with this lifestyle. Yep, that's what he says. Read it. But if acceptance of homosexuality was the determining factor, I never would have come out, nor would I be happily married today to the Wifester, so I don't see how this theory can possibly hold any validity. Not to mention the fact that it hinges on the idea that homosexuality is only a "few decades old." Really? I mean, come on. That bible those people like to thump in our faces and quote hateful, intolerant propaganda regarding homosexuality from is just a little bit more than a few decades old, so there goes that line of bull shit that TFRC is spoon feeding their sheeple.

It seems to me that a group whose name invokes the term "research" in its title would see to it that they, oh, I don't know, actually did some RESEARCH before making such spurious claims, but that's just me. While they are at it, they can fact check their other statement, "In reality, HHS has no idea how many LGBT seniors exist. No one does!" While that may be partially accurate, because true enough some people will still not identify themselves as gay/lesbian on a census and other questionnaires out of fear of discrimination from people like these tools at the Family Research Council, a great number are actually quite happy to identify themselves as gay/lesbian or in a committed relationship with a partner of the same sex. As a matter of fact, there are enough gay and lesbian elderly people that we now have gay/lesbian nursing homes available. The fact is, we're here, we're queer, and a great many of our population is elderly, get used to it.

The tragedy is not "unnecessary spending," as Tony Perkins and TFRC would have you believe, but quite the opposite. In fact, gay and lesbian specific health issues are one of the least studied, least focused on issues in the health care world. Lesbians have an increased risk for cervical cancer, one of the most deadly. Why? Because we often forgo pap smears just because we are not sexually active with men, or because often we are intimidated to tell a physician that we are lesbians, and face possible discrimination and judgment. Sure, AIDS gets a lot of attention now, but what people like this idiot neglect when they make statements like, "…given the risks of homosexual conduct, these people are less likely to live long enough to become senior citizens!" is that according to the CDC, researchers found that poverty was the most important demographic factor associated with HIV infection in inner-city heterosexuals. The lower the socioeconomic status, the higher the number of HIV cases. People whose household income was less than $10,000  per year are seven times more likely to have HIV than those whose household incomes were greater than $50,000 per year. And guess what? Marketing research has found that gays have about a 15% higher income than their similarly situated heterosexual friends and neighbors. Just sayin'. So, yes, while gay men still are the largest population of HIV/AIDS infected individuals, the fastest growing population is the inner city poor.

Tony Perkins and TFRC would rather see elderly people suffer in silence when a partner of 50+ years passes away. Unable to collect Social Security, unable to cover each other with health insurance, unable in many cases, just to find grief counseling that can help them with their specific situation.

I sure wish gay didn't gray, at least in regards to hair…but in reality, gay is gray, and it's here to stay.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

"Free Government Money!"

The good news is that the house next door finally has people living it it again. So does the one across the street. There are now only two houses left on the cul-de-sac that are empty. That is, as Martha Stewart says, a good thing.
The house next door is a blended family, with a total of three children, one of them is only there part time, and one on the way. They are nice people. Their kids are cute. The first few times my doorbell rang, to be followed by, "Can Sally come out and play?" I thought it was endearing. I smiled and thought, "How sweet."
Then it became a daily event.
Not only did it become a daily event, but multiple times a day. And not only that, but I have become trapped in my own house, looking out through the peep hole to make sure my porch is not kid-laden before I embark on the task of getting an attention/concentration challenged puppy to go potty, much less with 3 small children vying for her attention and affections. Its not just the three of them, either. Kids come with friends, you know. They bring every other kid from the neighborhood with them to knock on my door, ask if Sally can play, ask if they can play in my house, and if they can watch my TV...I don't even watch my TV during the day.
After trying, unsuccessfully, to explain to children (who are too young to get anywhere near the concept of an at home office) that I have work to do during the daytime, and that when I am finished with my work I will be happy to bring Sally and Sunny outside to play, The Wifester suggested buying a toy box full of little goodies for them to pick from.
Her idea, which sounded so good in theory, was to tell them that they could choose a toy from the box as long as they promised to let me finish up my work and not ring the doorbell any more. Bribery. It always worked on me at that age.
We ordered this from Oriental Trading Co.

I thought it would do the trick...I mean, it's not a Wii or anything like that, but come on...I'm just that fat lady next door with the big yellow dogs. I don't have to hand out top quality toys, right?
I was wrong.
After the children began the incessant ringing of the doorbell yesterday, I went to the door and told them that I really needed them to stop ringing it like that. I don't mean it was a ring and 5 minutes later another ring.
Oh, no, no, no! This was
ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!

accompanied by

knock!knock!knock! knock!knock!knock! knock!knock!knock! knock!knock!knock! knock!knock!knock! knock!knock!knock! knock!knock!knock! knock!knock!knock! knock!knock!knock! knock!knock!knock! knock!knock!knock!
Again, I explained that I was working...and as I tried to explain that I was working, one of the little monsters angels said to me, "What kind of work can you do from your house, anyways?"
I tried to put it in terms children of this age range can understand, so I simply said, "Well, I write letters for doctors, and I also have my own business baking dog treats like the ones I gave you for your dog."
To which this child replied, "You don't get free government money? I thought people who stay at home get free government money."

Ahhhh...out of the mouths of babes!

So after a good little chuckle, I told the kids they could pick out a toy from the box, but they needed to let me finish my work. Everyone agreed to these terms. Toys were selected. I was deemed the coolest neighbor on the street. Peace and quiet was returned to my abode...for a full 20 minutes and then

ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!ding-dong! ding-dong!

I returned to the door to find the gang of pip-squeaks there, as though it could be anyone else.

"My toy broke. Can I pick out another one?"

With a sigh, I agreed and brought out the treasure chest, with another lecture on doorbell etiquette and another stern warning about my need to work...
Digging through the toy box, the boy seemed indecisive and keept hesitating. The girl told her brother, "Just pick anything, it doesn't matter. They're all cheap anyways, so they're gonna break."
Then looking to me, she says, "Hey, why are they so cheap, anyways?"

Maybe if I had some of that free government money, I could afford to buy better bribery-toys for the little monsters darlings.