Wait...it's CONTAGIOUS?!?

You're going to need this for this post:

When I say "hit it", you go ahead and...you know...hit it. (Where "it" = that pretty "play" button.) Let's try it now just to make sure it's working. Are you ready?

Did you know that gay is (hit it)

CONTAGIOUS?!?

I didn't either! I can't believe no one brought it to my attention before! I mean, I know my mom thought (thinks?) that living in Cedar City, Utah for an extended period of time can give you The Gay, but I know plenty of straight folks in Cedar City, so I just figured she was overreacting. What if I was wrong? What if they're all just immune to The Gay and I wasn't? What if I caught gay from living in Cedar City and now I'm a carrier? What if I'm (hit it)



PASSING IT ON TO MY FRIENDS?!?

Oh, the humanity! Oh, the...to borrow, if I may, from Joseph Conrad: "The horror! The horror!"

I can't believe I didn't realize it before, but it must be true! Because, you see, I have this friend (who, for purposes of anonymity I will refer to as "Friend". Try not to get confused.) with whom I am very close. And she was making plans to come visit Becca and me for a day or two in the spring. When she mentioned these plans to her mother, her mother told her she didn't think it was a good idea. The "why" it wasn't a good idea, her mother left unsaid, but Friend already knew the "why". Eventually, Friend told me that both her parents (who are lovely people. I've met them. We get along famously and I was under the impression that they quite liked me.) are absolutely, with out a doubt, convinced that if you spend time with the gays, you will, in fact, catch THE GAY. (hit it)


I had no idea I was such a danger to my immediate friends and family! I suddenly feel like a leper. Maybe I should walk around chanting "unclean! Unclean!" so folks know I'm highly contagious. I have The Gay and there's nothing I can...or  want, for that matter...to do about it.

Any my poor friend! She's DOOMED! (Go ahead. One more time. With gusto. HIT IT!)


Like most of my friends, she makes her living in theater. And, as you may or may not know, a lot of gays work in theater.  Good grief, just walking into a theater is like licking a Petri dish full of gay. She's being exposed to gay from all sides! She can't escape it!

Now, I don't actually know anyone to whom I have directly passed The Gay. There was a girl who lived on my couch for a summer and thought she might have caught it - enough that she tried kissing girls and even dated a girl for a while - but, luckily, she made a full recovery and is now happily married (to a man) with a lovely child. She survived! Also, I can hardly take full responsibility for her exposure as the apartment in question was occupied, not only by myself and my wife, but by two of our gay friends (and our token straight friend). That's a lot of gay-sposure!

At least Friend's parents aren't concerned that the gays are actively recruiting. At least they're giving us the benefit of the doubt and taking some of the responsibility out of our hands. You might, even if you knew you had it, unwittingly pass on herpigonosyphilaids. So it is with The Gay. Despite your best efforts at containment, you never know who you're going to expose to the danger!

And, in her mother's defense, Friend is beautiful, smart, talented, in her mid 20's and (hit it - one more time)



SINGLE!

At this rate, she's destined to wind up an old maid, and her mother just wants to make sure she's actively pursuing a husband and not hiding behind the lesbians. Can you blame her? Okay, since I've spent this entire rant pseudo blaming her, I guess I can, but I can also see her point. The only way to meet eligible, single men is to hang out with eligible, single men. Most of the eligible, single men I hang out with are also interested in meeting eligible, single men. My circle of friends is not going to help Friend find a husband.

Anyway, I sincerely hope that Friend's well-educated, well-intentioned parents learn that The Gay isn't something you catch by exposure. It's just something you're born with - a genetic defect, if you will (I won't, but you can if it makes you feel better about life) - and not contagious at all. Though, I imagine the only way to prove it to them would be to over-expose Friend to The Gay and then marry her off to Vin Diesel, or some other excessively manly man. And I'm not sure Friend is into the kind of "over-exposure" I have in mind...

...yet. (hit it)

So, what's the deal with sex?

What IS the deal with sex? Now, granted, I have some of my own...hangups?...with sex, but setting those aside for a minute (you're welcome, Mom) I'd like to seriously talk about sex.

First of all, let me say, sex is fun. Or, at least, it should be. If sex is not fun, you're doing it wrong. (And, don't feel bad if this is the case. A lot of people aren't having fun. THAT'S what I want to talk about!)

But here's the thing about sex being fun - no one wants to talk about it. Anywhere. Ever. They get embarrassed if you bring it up. Why? We talk about other fun things all the time! And encourage people to participate in the fun with us (or without us, but for heaven's sake, go have some fun!)

For example, if I'm going to Disneyland, I invite everyone I know - because Disneyland is fun! I invite all my friends. I invite my family. I invite strangers on the street. I invite the waiter at Denny's. And when I get back, I tell all those people about all the fun I had so they'll want to go have some themselves. Because having fun is a good thing, right? I think we can all agree that fun is good and should be shared, yes? Great. Back to sex.

I'm not suggesting that you go have sex with strangers on the street (though, it might be fun, so I'm not going to knock it if that's what you choose to do. Fun is important! Just...you know...don't be stupid. Don't wiggle out of your safety restraints on the rides at Disneyland and absolutely use protection if you're having sex with strangers. But that's neither here nor there.) What I'm trying to figure out is why we want to tell everyone and their dogs about our fabulous trip to Disneyland, but we don't want to talk to our best friends about having great sex.

You guys. Great sex is fun!

The dude who currently resides upstairs from me just had boring sex. At least, I assume it was boring. It sounded boring from where I was sitting. The whole thing lasted all of three minutes and I heard heels in the stairwell maybe 45 seconds after the bed stopped squeaking. Did she have a train to catch? Is the building on fire? Did you kick her out? Sheesh, dude! Take a minute and enjoy yourself. Better yet, take a minute and make sure she enjoyed herself! There are rides at Disneyland that last longer than what you just did - literally.

See, that's one of the things about sex being fun - it takes two (or three or...you know...more than just you - not that that can't also be fun, that's just not what we're talking about here) - and if everyone involved isn't there to have a good time, what the hell are you there for?

Baby-making? I sincerely doubt it.

But how do we know we're all here to have fun if we don't talk about it? If we don't say things like, "OMG, I just had awesome sex. Everyone should be doing what I did last night," how will people know that sex should be awesome? Maybe the world isn't ready for the porno re-cap of every detail of your sex life, but you also don't typically mention every thing you ate while you were at Disneyland. It's enough to know that you were there and you had a great time and you EARNED those ridiculous mouse ears!

Yeah, I know. This has nothing to do with coming out. But, you know what I've learned from all my gay friends that I never heard about from the straight ones? Sex is FUN! (I guarantee you, the gays are not having sex for the purposes of pro-creation, and they're the only subset I know that genuinely want to talk about sex ALL THE TIME. Good for us! Yay fun!)

So. Get out there. Have some fun. Then talk about it. Talk to me. Find a gay friend and talk to them. Ask about my trip to Disneyland. I hereby declare war on whatever this weird phobia is we all seem to have about talking about sex. Sex sex sexy sex. Sex. I like it. I have it. You probably have too. If you haven't, you've probably thought about it. Sex. Let's talk.