Shortly after I moved to San Francisco, I got a job working at a indie (read: punk) record distributor. There was this guy, Ken, who worked with me who was the embodiment of a good leftie skinhead. Built like a fireplug, shaved head, jacket covered in patches of punk bands from eastern europe that few people outside eastern europe ever heard of.
One lunchtime, we decided to go record shopping (that's how frightening my life is - taking a break from a music warehouse to go to a record store). We go to Tower Records in the Castro, pick out our CDs and get in line.
"What are you getting, Ken?"
"The new CD by Cripple Bastards [I don't actually remember what he bought, but you get the idea]. What about you?"
"The new Hanson CD. I know it's gay, but what can I say? I really like it."
I spoke the words in a clear and resonant tone, without a shred of sarcasm. The crowd of shoppers, many of whom were undoubtedly gay, didn't flinch. Ken, however, looked sick. His bald head turned beet red.
"Jesse, don't you know where we are? You shouldn't use terms like that."
I was at once revolted by the super-PC reaction of my companion and touched that this dangerous looking skinhead was so compassionate and liberal. But mostly I was revolted.
That's my story. Thought it was a good place to tell it.
And in hindsight, "Mmm-bop" is still pretty gay, but I like it.
__________________
"Give the public everything you can give them, keep the place as clean as you can keep it, keep it friendly" - Walt Disney
|