skip to main |
skip to sidebar
All around the country today, thousands paid homage to the Virgen of Guadalupe. I would never have become privy to this holiday had it not been for a phone call from my dad--"I'll be at church tonight from 11-12", he said. "What? Why? Whatever, I'll go see you," was my response.
I decided to go check out what this was all about.
A few months back, my dad got "tapped" by this odd religious group within the Catholic church. They only contact men who were social service leaders to basically be glorified altar boys during big Catholic events. I thought it was weird that my dad would get called on for this holiday since he was neither Mexican nor Catholic.
My dad told me about the phone call. It was random, from someone to whom he had never spoken but who knew everything about him. He had been Googled hard. For about the past five years, my dad has really stepped up his public service. It started with one recurring annual project but then, as several big name natural disasters hit, my dad found himself with the connections and most of all the inspiration to do something about it. He stepped into a few leadership positions and honestly, to the surprise of all (ahem, his family) who know him as a self-centered, driven, ass-hole--succeeded incredibly. He raised record amounts and was able to coordinate organizations that had never previously thought to collaborate.
He accumulated accolade after accolade and has recently come to be known as a 'spokesperson' for several causes within the non-profit sector. He manages to still work as hard at his business. Honestly, I can hate him for certain reasons as a father, but it's hard to not love him as human being. I guess its the way I am too--full of irreconcilable paradoxes.
When my dad told me he had chosen to join, I asked why? You've never been religious. He said, I don't know why, I think it was the honesty in the man's voice. It's rare to talk to someone and immediately get the sense that what they are asking you for is really all for what they are asking. I knew he had no agenda or purpose other than to serve his community. I could not but say yes to him. I was floored. My dad had never said that about anyone. In fact, I knew he wouldn't even say that about me. Is that what people call a moment of faith?
So I went tonight. What the hell, right? I mean how often does this happen? Plus, I was kinda bored and the guys on Manhunt weren't all that tempting either :p
As I started to approach the cathedral, I realized quickly the magnitude of the event. The crowd occupied blocks and blocks. The smells of Mexican food permeated everything. It was like a huge Holy carnival, or like the religious version of a state fair. Kids had little light up toys, and instead of cotton candy, people were munching on churros and tamales. Everyone seemed happy and to be having a good time, despite the obvious overtone of respect for the Virgin--of whom there were images everywhere. Having grown up a fire-and-brimstone protestant who looked down on the pagan Catholics, I was floored at how much fun these folks were having with their religion. No Bible beatings or guilt trips about tithing. Nope--just plain, simple, and straight forward commercialism.
As I moved through the crowd, I got a text from my dad. The cathedral has been sealed. Go to bed. I'll see you some other time. I texted him back. I'm here.
I'll find a way in.
When I came upon the cathedral, I saw that the front doors were shut tightly, as if the place were closed. Still, the crowds didn't leave. They were like a large moat that had grown into an ocean around the building. The media was everywhere too. I felt ignorant and stupid. Don't I know about everything that's important? I mean, I pride myself on even knowing about the cultures of others. How as I so unaware? I pushed my way through trying to find the side doors.
As I rounded the corner, I saw a huge line--at least 6 or 8 people across--wrapping around the entire courtyard and then continuing outwards towards the street. Holy shit, there's no way. As I was turning around, I decided to try again anyway. How hard can it be to get into a church? It's not like its a concert or anything.
As I tried to weasel my way in, a large gruff man, stopped me and said, Sir, this is an exit only. I gave him puppy dog eyes, but he didn't budge. I managed to side step him enough to see just how big the cathedral was. The exit was not even within sight-distance of the front altar.
I turned around and noticed that my dad had texted me again. He wrote, "I'm at the very front, in the first row." Fuck. Well, I guess I can at least say that I was here and tried. As I turned to leave, I thought, Oh come on, Tino, you can get over this one. It just can't be too hard.
So I turned around and circumvented the crowd again, and found a little corner where there were bathrooms. Odd, outdoor entrances to bathrooms within the building? Worth exploring.
As I moved closer I saw in a dark niche a handicap entrance. Bingo.
I pulled on the door--DRATS--it was locked. It was a double door, so I tried the second one. PRESTO.
As I tugged on the handle, I realized that I had opened the door that directly faced the altar and pulpit. Holy shit. I was a little too successful, as my eyes adjusted to the bright lights, I noticed that someone was standing right next to the door.
He was pulling something out from his pocket and crouching at the same time. It was a phone and he was about to start texting. IT WAS MY DAD!
He looked up, freaked, and then broke into the biggest smile. He quickly came up to hug me as his smile turned into a mischievous grin. HAHA, yea, I had found a way in.
"Hey dad," I said, as I hugged him back. "Congrats." He could barely utter the words, "You can't be here too long before the fire marshal comes to kick you out."
Haha, I chuckled, as I pulled out my cam, and said, "Okay, but I'm least getting a picture of you in that get up." He smiled, and looking all campy, posed.
Then I hugged him one last time, and put my face next to his. As I was pulling up and away, I kissed him on the cheek. It wasn't sexy, I just felt close to him.
No one else in the fam had come to see him, and after a long workday that had ended for him only an hour before, he had dragged himself all the way out to a different part of the city, just to participate in this odd mystic event. I was proud.
Over the past few years, pretty much everyone in the fam has distanced themselves from my father. No one can seem to forgive him for all that he has done wrong. I don't know why though, but as I've aged, I've come to realize just how tough my dad's life has been. I can't imagine how someone can go through as much as he did, and still managed to have accomplished so much. Were mistakes bound to occur? Of course. Were they bound to hurt? Of course. Did that mean that he was anything less than human. Never. And as such, for me, he deserves all of the mercy and forgiveness accorded to someone who is desperately trying to get life right--no matter how late or hard it gets. My dad's presence--in some foreign yet uberly meaningful event--was a symbol of how hard he tried to do right in the world, despite all his shortcomings. For never giving up--on life, himself, or the power of good will towards others--I love my dad.
I was so exhausted today, and my plans with all my recent hotties fell through for this evening. Then I remembered that I had set up a meeting with my dad for tonight. Had completely slipped my mind. Fuck, I thought, hopefully he forgot too.
I check my phone and saw that he had already texted me to confirm. Drats.
I headed down to the coffee shop where we usually meet. He wasn't there yet. I plopped down on a big leather couch. A minute later, he showed up and was happy to see me. It's still weird for me to see that reaction in him for me. I'm still used to the days when we couldn't stand to see each other.
I got up and he hugged me. My dad is the funniest person to me in so many ways. He's shorter than me, by like a lot. So he really just ends up hugging my chest and maybe my shoulders. Yet, he carries himself with an incredible smug-filled pride--except when he hugs one of his kids.
What do you want to drink? he asks, turning around to face the baked goods display.
me: Hmmm... just tea.
dad: Are you hungry? Have you eaten?
me, wondering if he's trying to be fatherly: Not really..... (long pause).... Have you?
dad: I haven't eaten since (dad looks off to the side while counting) for over 12 hours! (he announces with pride)
I glance away trying not to roll my eyes. Gawd... his metabolism must be so fucked up.
me: Well, then you must be really hungry.
We went walking to look for a restaurant. We found one--warm yellow-orange deep lighting and mock stones made the place look inviting.
I'm going to break the conversation into parts... feel no obligation to read the whole thing;)
Conversation 1: Tino eschews carbs, Dad eats like a two year old.
Dad orders a Caesar salad (no cheese), and a lemonade. He tears into the corn bread. Hilarious. He'll have a happy meal with that to go too.
waitress, to me: And you? What would you like?
me: Uuuhhhhhmmm..... (Well I can't have carbs so let me see) I'll have the house salad with no eggs, no tomatoes, no onions --- my dad bursts into mocking laughter.
dad: you might as well just ask for only greens!
me: (well, if only they had a greens salad on the freakin' menu) Actually, can you do that?
waitress: Well we have a Gorgonzolla which includes greens.
me: Ohh.... got it. I see it. Sure I'll have that without the cranberries, cheese, pears---she interrupts me, I can tell she's a bit uncomfortable.
waitress: Just the greens and the balsamic then.
me: Hmmm... well, the balsamic on the side.
waitress: (while scribbling) Greeeat. And to drink?
me: Water.
waitress: Right... of course. (she smiles).
me: Oh, with lemon.
waitress: Aaha. Got it.
Conversation 2: Tino and Dad shoot the shit about Absolutely Nothing
Sometime after the meal arrives...
me: So nuclear energy might be making a comeback.
dad: Well with global warming and all, you know.
me: I hear there's an island in the pacific from all the plastic the US has siphoned off shore. him: Really?
me: Yea, it's twice the size of Texas.
dad, feigning some surprise: Oh wow.
We each take a few bites and give the current events small talk a rest.
Long pause. I decide that there's been enough fluff talk.
Conversation 3: Tino decides to bring up a gay topic--Chris's blog.
me: So, have I ever told you that I keep a blog?
he looks down at his food.
me: You, uhm, do know what those are?
dad: Oh... yes, yes... d-y-ari-eees.
me: (too prove that they are not a girl-thing) Oh that's right, my half brother has one.
dad: Yes, yes he does.
me: well mine is anonymous. u know... so that i can be totally honest in it. (brutal, really) people from everywhere read these things.
dad: absolutely.
me: this gay guy e-mailed.
Long conversation about Kinsey and dad's school days when homosexuality was totally nefas. Told dad about Chris's coming out post-marriage.
dad: You know, back when I was in school, psychology still abided by Freud?
me: Right... right.
dad: Well, I had one professor say in class that one interpretation of the Casanova type was that his womanizing was a front to avoid and hide his homosexuality.
me, amazed that dad's relating to me with a real example from his life: You know, I had a friend who I think might have fit into that category... that's interesting.
dad: Can you believe that back in those days, when the professor brought that up in class, some of the more religious students went so far as to walk out?
me: (ha... today, the professors will just hit on you) Yea, wow... times have really changed huh?
dad: Definitely.
Conversation 4: Tino decides to up the ante and tells Dad about Steroid Boi's Sugar Daddy--the conversation turns toward Gay Marriage
me: Did I tell you about this boi I met at the gym? The one who's on steroids?
dad: No... you haven't.
Dad looks at his salad.
dad: You know there's flooding going up North.
me: I ran into him last weekend I my friend's birthday get-together.
dad: Sorry---go ahead.
me: I wanted him to come meet my friend, but he had me wait for a minutes. He was holding the tab, and said that a friend of his had to pay. His friend was a much older guy, who paid for everything. I ran into the boi the next day at the gym. I told him, you know I'd like to hang out now that I have some more time, and before I start working again. He said to me, 'Oh, you have a job already?' I of course said no, but that getting a job is not the tough part, its enjoying the free time that I have now that I'm concerned about. You know when I said "not the tough part"... he sort of freaked out. But, he said that his older friend was having surgery and that he was picking him up later that day, and well that... he might have to care for him over the next couple of days... That's when I sort of realized that my suspicions about the previous night might have been warranted.
dad: That's disgusting. I mean not regarding the sexual preference, but that anyone would engage in such a relationship.
me: You know I thought about that.... but I realized after a while that, if you trace it back far enough, someone down the line had to marry someone for convenience's sake. Mom's mother married grandpa for the money, and he married her because she was something worth looking at... It was never a secret why they married. So---straight people have been at since forever. Pause. Except straight people have two advantages. One is progeny and the other is marriage. They allowed for the woman to generally securitize her end of the deal. Gays... we're left to whim of the one with the money.
dad: There are thousands of people everyday who risk their lives trying to get into this country. Whether on foot, or on a raft, or stowed away in some barge, to come here and make the most honest living they can. How can you attempt to speak on behalf of someone who's attempting to take the easy way out?
me: Dad.. when I told him I wanted to go to law school. He asked if the degree required 8 or 9 years of school! The kid is ignorant. He doesn't have any education beyond a high school degree. He sees no other option. Plus, few if any of those people risking their lives have the option of being a well-paid companion. Most 'companionship' sells for very little. I can't, knowing how sheltered this boi is, turn my nose up at him and go chill with all my ultra educated friends and say, well, he's just lazy. He just doesn't know. Perhaps if he got to know other people who had made it some other way, then he would view 'companionship' as not such an attractive option.
dad: I would never see that as an option. And the issue of marriage and of education or mobility are totally separate.
me: Hmmm... perhaps from a hetero perspective. However, marriage offers stability to any community. Perhaps if those two got married, the kid might get a college degree out of it. Many straight couples do things like that. Of course, it requires some sort of foundation of an assurance that someone has made some sort of commitment.
dad: I don't think that you're talking about straight people accurately. Plus, it'll be a long time before voters in this country, as a majority, think the way you do.
me: Thank goodness that's this country isn't run by referendum. You think that if it were up to voters that sexual harassment would've ever gained legal substantiation? Please! Male judges alluded to sexual harassment as serious jokes up through the mid-eighties! It was women in key positions throughout capitol hill who made that a real possibility. When judges starting asking for concrete criteria about what constituted sexual harassment--of course, believing that no one would be able to produce a rigorous document--women from numerous bureaucratic agencies stepped up to the plate, collaborated, and slapped down THE manual which today defines what is and what isn't sexual harassment. It didn't have to perfect. It just had to read like legaleze.
dad: So what's your point.
me: The more gay lawyers we have, the easier it'll be for us to respond to the counter arguments in court thrown at us by religious right. We won't have to win the battle at the polls. We'll have the ability and the authority to issue legal structures that will withstand the opposition.
Long pause.
dad: I guess we'll see.
Long pause again.
Conversation 5: Christmas
dad: So what are you doing for Christmas?
me: (shit.... he's gonna pull a guilt trip... need a trump card asap) Hmm... I don't have plans yet, really.
dad: Oh...
me: (flip the focus) How'bout you?
dad: Well... hmmm... Julie (his current wife) wants to go see her family.
me: Really??? What's the occasion.
He explains that two of her sisters were diagnosed with breast cancer.
me: So are you going?
dad: Depends.
me: On?
dad: Whether I'm invited or not. (there goes that smugness again.)
me: She probably just assumes you're going. Do you want to go?
dad: Yes.
me: So have you brought it up?
dad: No.
me: Has she brought it up?
dad: She probably knows I don't want to go.
me: But you just said...
dad: I just don't want to go during Christmas.
me: why not?
dad: Because I want to be here.
me: Why?
dad: Because Christmas should be celebrated here.
me: Why?
dad: Because it just should.
me: I got that, but why should it?
dad: Because I want to be with all of my children.
Whoa... I never expected that one. I couldn't come back with a retort. I felt like he really cared about me. That moment alone was worth more than a beamer for Christmas. I gave him these big eyes.
dad: If she goes, all the other kids will too.
me: How far is it?
dad: 2 and 1/2 hour flight.
me: That's not far.
dad: No. Not really.
me: Fly on Christmas day.
dad: What?
me: Yea. I'll celebrate Christmas with you during the day, and then you can have the evening over there. That way you can spend Christmas with almost all of your kids.
him: I'll have to look into it. (gruffly he says) Thanks though... my son.
me: I love you dad. I know its your favorite holiday.
dad: Pause... It's not been that way these past few years.
me: Oh come on dad. I can't see a single Christmas decoration or hear a freagin jingle during winter without remembering how much you like this time of year.
dad: Well... things are changing. We haven't all been together in a very long time.
me: You never know... what the future will be like.
dad: You know your sister wants the flight money.
me: Okay.
dad: But on the condition that she won't see any of us.
me: Hmmm.... Got it.
We left, and my dad seemed to feel better. I felt bad for him. Ironically, it felt good to try and make him feel better. I was really surprised at my own reaction.
During the early period when I used to go out to gay bars, I once happened to have sat next to this older man. He wore a very color sweater, was deeply tanned, and while very well preserved, sported one or two deep creases on his face.
He seemed to be very shy. I sat there because I was in love with the bartender assigned to that part of the bar. But, out of boredom I struck up conversation. We talked and talked. He was here on business. He owned several properties not too far from the bar. Nice. He was intelligent, charming, and though older and likely accustomed to dishing out orders, he was very deferential towards me. In a world where being young, and looking even younger, can immediately turn you into the sound board of the day for a superior or two--I was eating up this man's diffidence.
He insisted on buying me drinks. As soon as one was even half way done, he was calling for the next, and the next. I didn't mind, because I liked seeing the hottie bartender's arms flex, and his chiseled smile beam my way. Still, being the lightweight that I am, I was getting tipsy quickly. Although the man seemed very shy, I also noticed that he kept getting me these drinks with ferverence. He got nervous whenever the topic of sex remotely came up in conversation.
Eventually, the talking progressed and I asked him from where he originally hailed. Far away, but oh so familiar--the place where my parents had met, their college town. A deceptively conservative place.
So, I made the point. Yea, my parents have spoken about that city fondly and often. That's where they met there. At school.
Oh? He asked, I went to school there as well. Which school did your parents attend?, he asked. I was already very tipsy.
I told him. Ha, he says, I went to school there as well. What year were they?
"Hmmm... I'd rather not say," I drawled, covering up my potential rudeness with a slight slur of speech.
"Well... I graduated in 1975... just in case you were wondering" he said.
OH FUCK, I thought, that's my parents graduation year.
Great, I said, hoping that my surprise wasn't too obvious. Quick, change the subject. What did you study? He told me, and in all likelihood. He knew my parents.
What an awkward situation right? Nothing to freak out over, but still rather funny.
As I neared the point of total intoxication, the older man went to the bathroom for a minute. Suddenly, this not-super cute dude with a tight body came over to me. He came out of nowhere and before I could even see his face, he leaned next to me, began massaging the small of my back aggressively, and began furiously to kiss the back of my right ear and neck. He was amazing. His onslaught was like a flash flood of pleasure. I let out an involuntary moan, as I writhed not just in an attempt to see who he was, but out of the intensity of his kisses.
"How would you like to come home with me tonight?", he said in a deep gutteral voice in between kisses.
"I don't know," I said, as teasingly as fucken blonde bimbo. I giggled a bit, but couldn't continue because I couldn't help but moan again, as he continued to tongue fuck my ear and neck.
"Maaaaan...." I gasped with pleasure, "I don't know about home with you... but what you're doing sure feels GOOoooD."
"Let's take this over to my place," he said into my ear. I was feeling this. I was feeling this big time. But I was drunk and not going to end up somewhere I hadn't thought through before like some idiot.
I was conflicted and I looked up and around trying to find the older man or anyone really who could connect with me and get me out of this man's oral-vortex. He had me, and I knew it.
I saw the old man. He sat several chairs away from us, and looked defeated like a child who lost the game. He looked devestated. In that split moment, I realized he wouldn't have the balls to interfere or likely even to respond to me. He looked away from me as if to pretend like this wasn't happening to him. I got annoyed.
I giggled and moaned some more. "Well, then," I whispered back to him. "Lead the way."
My bartender looked at me with this dumbstruck and cheesy smile. As this guy dragged me away to who knows where.
I had a blast that night. This guy gave me the most pleasurable hickies I've ever experienced. I didn't even know that they could feel so good. I think he should be called Hickie Guy. That's when I discovered that the neck could possibly be the most important sexual part of the body.
I didn't do anything that night. I just let that guy do whatever he wanted to do to me.
Months later, I was talking with my mother over lunch. I got a bit activist and told her about how gay students get harassed at universities often.
I said, "It's an old problem. It's just that now we're out of the closet. I'm sure that even you had gay friends at school and didn't even know it."
Suddenly, she got quiet, and she lost all her gusto. Her mantra of "There's no discrimination any more" went silent. She looked off into the distance, nostalgically. "No... they weren't all in the closet," she said.
"You knew some out-gay people when you were in school???" I asked incredulously. But then I remembered the old guy at the bar.
"Yes," she said softly. "But you're right. They paid the price for it." She still was looking off into the distance as if she were remembering and reliving her school days all over again. "Despite that... they were the most loyal human beings one could ever meet and the best friends would could ever have."
I'd never ever heard my mother or seen my mother get so nostalgic. Not about school at least.
I queried some more. And so I told her about the old man at the bar.
"You met ROBERT!!!!!" she exclaimed in disbelief.
I told her what his family did, and his line of business and what he had studied. Everything lined up. I was floored. My mom used to be fag hag, and I met one of them!
I didn't tell her about the drinks or the hickies;) Though I do wonder.... many have noticed that as I have aged I look more and more like my mother. I wonder if the old guy, Robert, knew.
