San Francisco
Part 27

Spencer topped up our wine glasses with the ruby colored wine, then munched on a piece of cheese. "My dad got up from his chair, then hugged and kissed me. It was an incredibly emotional moment, and I hadn't really expected him to do that. A moment later, my mom got up and did the same. Dad took the opporunity to pour us each a straight Jack Daniel's... my first. Whoa! I can still feel that rocket fuel burning my throat. At the time, though, I thought the bourbon was intended for some kinda celebration, but I know now that it was just a relief for all of us, and a strong drink was called for. After taking a sip of the Jack Daniels, my dad asked me straight out if Marc was their new son. "Yeah." Then my dad asked me how it was affecting Marc and me, and how we were dealing with it... and if we needed to talk to anyone about it. I caught his meaning right away. He wasn't just talking about me, but about Marc and me. The two of us. My mom and dad loved Marc, too. Marc was like family to all of us."

"So then I told my folks about the rabbi, and that we'd planned on seeing him again. I also told them that things at school were OK."

"Your folks were happy about your being gay?"

"Not really. I know they were -- and probably still are -- disappointed 'cause no parents want their kids to be gay. But, in spite of that, I burst out bawling when my mom said that they couldn't ask for a better son. We hugged and hugged, and hugged some more. I've never loved them more than I did that night. And for the first time in weeks -- during which time Marc and I were in the process of planning our coming out -- I slept OK. After I threw up, that is."

"Threw up? Was that because of the bourbon?"

"Maybe. But more likely the emotion... the relief."

"So everything's OK now?"

"Yeah... well, as OK as it can be, I guess. I mean, I never discuss... things... intimate things. My folks must know what I do... like the sex I have with guys. I sometimes wonder if my dad visualizes it. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe it's something he just doesn't wanna know about. He copes, though. And he loves Willie. My dad is a totally amazing man considering I'm his only son. I'll be the one who runs the family business after college. But who am I gonna hand it over to when I'm ready to retire? Y'know? I mean, the family tree stops with me. It's a dead end. Maybe when I'm older and more responsible, I'll adopt a kid. I'm not sure about that, though."

"You think life is all about having children?" Pop asked.

"I don't know what to think, Pop."

"Then allow me to suggest something. Think about what you've given to Willie and Marc. Think about the influence you've had on Daniel... and, believe me, he never stops talking about you. Think about all the other people you'll touch as you go through life. They will be your children."

"Blood's thicker than water, Pop."

"Is it? I'm not so sure. How many books on your bookshelf have been written by your relatives? How much of you is the result of family, and how much of you is the result of other influences? If everything you needed to know could be provided by your parents, why go to college?"

"Hey, Pop, I'm no genius. OK? What can I do for the human race? I'm not gonna go down in history as whatever."

"Maybe not. History books tend not to focus on people who've only touched a few lives, or even a hundred lives. But one of those lives you've touched, or will touch, could end up being an Einstein or a Shakespeare. Do you think Einstein and Shakespeare lived their lives without being influenced by others outside their immediate families? Do you think they were solely responsible for shaping their own destinies?"

"Guess not."

"There's no guessing about it, Spencer. How much have you read about Shakespeare's parents? Or his friends? History doesn't record those things unless they're exceptional. I can tell you that you've made a positive impression on me... as well as everyone else at this table... not forgetting MM, and Marc, and God knows who else. Be thankful for who you are, and the difference you have made and will continue to make. It may not be a difference that will go down in history, but history books don't tell the whole story."

"Jeez, Pop. Whoa! This is kinda freaky."

"Freaky? I don't think so. If telling your story can make a difference to just one person's life, it's worth telling. And we already know it's made a difference to several people."

"What about Marc?" I asked. "You haven't told us what happened when he came out to his folks."

"Marc's coming out was pretty much the same as mine, except it was carried on in Hebrew. It happened over dinner at his place with his folks... but he didn't say he was gay... well, not exactly. He said, "Spencer's my boyfriend." That was followed by a long silence. So he repeated the sentence 'til it registered with his parents."

"Finally, his mom got a little freaky, then threw her hands up to her face in horror, and cried, "Oy, oy! Now I will never have blonde-haired, blue-eyed grandchildren!" After a while she settled down, and added, "It's just a stage you're going through."

"Marc didn't appreciate my laughing when he told me about that. Jeez, I still can't help laughing when I think about it. I guess there's a funny side to everything. Marc's mom is the stereotypical Jewish mama, and I wish I could've been there to see her reaction to "Spencer's my boyfriend". But Marc has two older sisters who are married, so there'll be no shortage of grandkids. Oh, and his dad has no problem with Marc's being gay. He's cool."

"Wow," I enthused. "That's just so damn awesome! Both dads are cool! Can you believe that? Your dad's cool and Marc's dad's cool. That's like two dads! I would've thought that dads would be the first ones to freak!"

"Anyway, Marc's mom finally calmed down, and everything turned out OK. He got all the hugs and kisses that I did."

"I'll bet the phone lines between your place and Marc's were running hot for quite a while afterwards!"

"You can say that again, Daniel. But you know what? We never had any problems at school after that. Marc and I kinda felt freer to demonstrate our affection in public... not to any great extent... I mean, we never advertised our relationship, but we didn't hide it, either. No one gave a shit, 'cept for a few assholes, and that was to be expected. But when Willie got back to school..."

"Hello?"

"Sorry, Willie. I wasn't ignoring you. I kinda got carried away with Pop's and Daniel's questions. You wanna tell your part of the story?"

"You wanna pour more wine?"

After Willie's glass had been topped up -- and ours -- all eyes were drilling him. "I'd grown to like Spencer and Marc a lot. We were all pretty close, and I didn't wanna see any shit happening to either of them. So I kinda looked after them, y'know. I had a rep as a heavy, and nobody wanted to mess with me."

"You were still a bully?"

"Nope... just taking care of my buds, that's all. Anyway, the whole situation cooled down... and I made sure it stayed that way."

There was something about Willie that had been bothering me for a while, but I just couldn't put my finger on it. "You ever been on the net, Willie?"

"Me?"

"Yeah... you look kinda familiar. There's a model... uh... yeah! That's it! I remember now... his name's Levi. You look just like him."

"I do?"

"You're bigger through the chest and back, and your legs are not as hairy. Your eyes are spaced a little farther apart, but the likeness is awesome. You ever get people coming up to you and asking if you're Levi?"

"Maybe that explains some of the looks I get," he laughed.

"You've got the same kinda dick, too."

"Daniel!"

"It's OK, Pop. I caught a quick glimpse of Willie's boner in the bathroom."

"I know all about your quick glimpses, Daniel."

"And I know all about yours, too, Pop," I cracked.

"Anyway, Spencer," a crimson-faced Pop continued, "thanks for telling us your story. It's a wonderful story of courage and compassion, and I can't help admiring your parents' attitude. And they're right... they couldn't have asked for a better son. By the same token, you couldn't have asked for better parents."

"You've got me thinking, too," I said as I grabbed the last piece of cheese just before Pop got his sticky fingers on it. "But I'm not sure I wanna tell my folks. Not just yet, anyways."

"It's like the rabbi said, Daniel... it's better to tell your folks before someone else does. It worked for me and Marc."

"What do you think, Pop?"

"My folks found out via a third party, and they were devestated... probably more so by the fact that everyone knew about my being gay except them. I guess they felt cheated. On the other hand, things were much different then... homosexuality was against the law. To admit to being gay would have been the same as admitting to being a criminal."

"What kinda dumb fucking law was that?"

"About as dumb as any other law that favors discrimination on the basis of race, color, creed, or sexuality. You've gotta remember, Daniel, humans aren't the brightest of creatures. The problem is they're in control of the planet."

"No they're not! God is."

"Which God?"

"There's only one, Pop. What's so funny? What are you chuckling at?"

"Your innocence."

"Yeah, right. You know what I'm like, Pop, and it ain't called innocent."

"I think it is," he smiled as he roughed up my blonde hair. "You're a bit of a scallywag, young man, but there's not a mean bone in your body. If there were six billion Daniels on the planet there'd be no wars."

"There'd be no time for wars, Pop, 'cause we'd all be..."

"DON'T... say it!" Pop ordered, then fell about like the rest of us, cracking up big time.

As the convo continued, and the cheese platter had been replenished, Spencer also made mention of Marc's maternal grandparents. "They were another matter. They're orthodox Jews and when we visited them last summer we got a fifteen minute sermon from the Torah about homosexuality."

"Like?"

"Like it's not natural and it's an abomination in the sight of God."

"Well, he shouldn't be looking."

"Anyway, we stayed with them for two days and they turned out to be gracious and charming. They also kept Bene and me wide-eyed with tales about being in the Dutch underground during World War Two. Awesome brave people with a story waiting to be written. Anyway, I'm getting the feeling I've hogged the convo too much, guys. Sorry."

"I'm really glad you told your story, Spencer. I'm not sure how much it relates to my situation, but it doesn't hurt to know how other people cope. Maybe all this stuff will come in handy one day when... if... well, whatever."

Then Willie chipped in. "Don't do anything that doesn't feel right, Daniel. Use your gut feeling. Not all folks are like Spencer's and Marc's. Take mine, for example."

"Mine are cool... but I'm not sure exactly how cool. They let me come here to San Francisco with Pop, though. So I guess they figure I can take care of myself, and make my own decisions. But I've been thinking about the grandkids thing... it sounds like parents have kids just so their kids can have kids... like some kinda plan. What if it was the other way around? What if kids gave birth to parents? What kinda parents would we want? Rich ones? Tall ones? White ones? Would we be disappointed if they didn't turn out like we wanted?"

"From out of the mouths of babes," Pop chuckled.

"Huh?"

"Never mind, Daniel. Let's just say you're a pretty smart dude for an incorrigible scallywag."

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