SGN Page 44

by Madelyn Arnold

Not going to the dogs
Unlike so many of us, growing up thinking were the only one[s], I learned early about the existence of Gay culture and Lesbianism, Bisexualism and bars which I thought for a long time put me ahead of the game. Now Im not so sure. I got this wisdom from the people around me, books, and from actual experience. Experience was definitely the least of the matter. Starting when I was about 10, my father began bringing home Sociology, Criminology and Psychology books in order to enter law school as a special student. I was curious, and read along behind.... I think this amused him so that he made sure to leave out things like Tropic of Cancer, Candy, and a good deal of D.H. Lawrence particularly, Lady Chatterlys Lover (with the page bent down at the here tha shits, and here tha pisses section). I was an underdeveloped 10, and my response to [somebodys idea of] adult sexuality was rather close to horror. From textbooks such as Deviant Behavior, I learned that those who preferred their own sex were juvenile, prone to criminality, jealousy, violence and suicide. And had negative characteristics. They had these great sinful bars in the big cities. I was supposed to be sly, oversexed and somewhat criminal. I wasnt absolutely clear about the sex part, but nevertheless, could hardly wait to sin. Our Thursday Best In some ways being Gay was like being to a secret club, though the dues were higher. Of course it wasnt like youd joined the Kiwanis even the Ku Klux Klan was more acceptable but it had its points: we could signal each other or pretend that others (completely ignorant) were members of our group. Which amused us. I dont know how it got started, but because high school students told each other that anyone who wore green on Thursday was queer, we queers adopted it about half of us daringly bilious and the other half anything else (occasionally trading). Then too, a very cultured (not to say effete) man was called a long hair, and long hair granted both men and women a sort of artsy aura hair somehow implying other-than-biological creativity. Creativity conferred our sexual preference, so male poets, musicians, and say, English majors, as well as those with hair longer than a butch cut, were supposed to be queer. You could be a straight dork with shaggy hair and a khaki jacket, and be granted both artistic and sexual pretensions. We said. On the other hand was the greaser, a roughian with hair longer than a buzz-cut who coifed with oil and wax. In other words a man with long hair that was dirty was still a man and not a queer. It may help to remember that those were the days of the (last) draft. Men not self-confessed (or complete queens dont ask and for gods sake, dont tell) would eventually have their heads shaved in the Service. Longish hair was a silent assertion of what armed forces seem to have to squelch. We little grovelling Gay-worms felt cleaner and smarter this way. Actual Experience... We did have our outlets. After I started college at 17, I learned that about 10:00 p.m., a local restaurant turned to us ( both sexes and most ages) as the general public knocked off. The kitchen closed (not the bar); most staff went home, and those left to work were likely Gay. I suppose anyone who looked younger than mid-teens would have been shown out, but since we were all equally illegal, we kids had a place to go. It seemed unnecessarily prissy to separate kids from adults. Although I was terribly wise, thanks to extensive reading, it still came as a surprise there were places to gather near home that in fact, almost no town was so small that our people didnt have some system of communication and place(s) to meet. The last cook left was Gay, or had relatives who were, or was happy to be bribed, and women and men, Bisexuals, fag-hags and alternative folks of many descriptions jammed in with an incredible feeling of relief and freedom. We were not free and not safe, but at least we didnt have to act straight for a while. It is still true that Lesbians and Gay men mix more in the country than in the cities; sadly, though, with the understanding that we all belong in cities, those in the country dont make places for themselves as much... as if they no longer have the right. Another Sideroad Attraction Thursdays aside, grown men and women had an intricate dance to do to attract others of their kind and avoid strangers. There were parties and party houses and Mafia bars where we could be Gay and at least, drink; but in parks, by the side of the road, and especially at comfort stations along the highways, we could be found in more aggressive and daring groups. Daring is a polite word for it. It goes without saying that tea rooms existed as they do today, but those rest areas... it was not infrequent that, late in the evening, motor homes and similar structures were occupying a pull-off and functioning as little ad hoc whorehouses. Tea rooms werent meant to attract Lesbians, but in some places there were performances with wider appeal. What I remember best were the Bisexual women and their cross-dressing friends and somebodys talented pets. By the time I was visiting, I was over 16 and in college. My friends Frank and Tom took me to a rest area off I-70, to open my eyes. We arrived fairly lit, and it took me a while to realize that in the dim light of Christmas bulbs, a woman in an exotic split skirt was being, well, pleasured, by a ratty shepherd dog. The woman thrashed and moaned; the dog licked lustily, with real theatrical flair. The trailers owner, a tall and scrubby man, was wearing heavy earrings and the largest pair of Cuban heels Id ever seen. He took his turn, by which time if my eyes had been open any wider theyd have fallen out and rolled across the floor. To master depravity, at least I was aimed right. I asked Frank if hed ever done anything like that. Are you nuts? he said. With all these weirdos around? That dog was popular for a while, taking all comers, but then came a second act. This time, both principals took on a mastiff, the man dog-fashion and the woman done missionary style, like a dog layer-cake. When they brought in a goat, I went for a nice long walk. Liberation and All Those Snooty Kids Two years later, Indiana Universitys Gay Liberation began It was enlightening to stand upright and explain ourselves with pride in our own pure toughness. We talked for such classes as Psychology, Sociology and Criminology as proud individuals, self-consciously unique. Sometimes egos outpaced our good sense, but it was transformative after Deviant Behavior. We took fewer drugs and drank less than our small town - or big city - counterparts. We had the support of the Kinsey Institute; we worked very hard, and were terribly full of ourselves. Frank came to visit after Gay Liberation got cooking and two things he had never imagined happening occurred: he saw straight guys, hippies, in drag, at GLFs Halloween Homecoming Dance, and he met Gay boys who paid him no attention. He was accustomed to pressuring men he could identify as Gay into sex. You think, he snapped at me. People are going to go on and treat you good. But hits just new. One day youll be like the rest of us pukes, and theyll scrape you off like dog shit off their shoes and dont come crying to me! I thought of the dogs and the goat, and said I wouldnt.... Madelyn Arnold, an early Gay Liberation activist, is a novelist and journalist contributing to the SGN since 1975. And hasnt all this dank and moldy weather been just LOVELY?