Thanksgiving with the Walkers

Tomorrow, Chris and I fly back to the East coast to spend the first holiday together with our respective families. We’ve been a couple for two years now, but have always celebrated the holidays apart. Maintaining separation around the holidays is the only way I’ve deluded Chris into thinking my family is (somewhat) sane.

We’ve recently become addicted to ABC’s Sunday night drama, “Brothers & Sisters”, in part because it reminds me so much of my own family dynamics: In the Walker family, no secret can be kept for longer than one episode, steel-plated body armour is a preferable substitute for thick skin, and drinking at any hour is the only acceptable breach of etiquette.
Can I get an Amen?

We've got two nights with his parents.
One night with mine.
And one night in a hotel to decompress.
Gobble. Gobble.

Am I Nancy Pelosi's Love Child?

It felt like Christmas morning when I rolled out of bed. I knew the election results would be good- we stopped watching CNN last night after the polls confirmed that the Democrats had control of the House. (Although, Andersen Cooper could have told us that the Nazis had thrown a coup and we wouldn't have cared, really.) We didn’t know the extent of the power shift until I logged on this morning. Of course, my first inclination was to call all the Republicans I knew. All four of them. Since we already gave Darin unmerciful shit this weekend for hiding in his log cabin, I immediately moved down the list and gave my parents a call.

My mother answered. She’s no politico, but I still managed to do a little elephant stomping.

Then she completely stunned me.

“Did you know your father dated Nancy Pelosi?”

My dad has “Upstate Conservative New York Republican” built into his genetic code. The thought of Nancy and Steve shagging at the drive-in was as bizarre as George Dubyah making out with Natalie Maines from the Dixie Chicks.

But then I got to thinking… what if Nancy Pelosi WAS actually my mom? Now, I’m not trading in my own mother- she totally rocks. But, c’mon- having a mom emblazoned with the title of “Madame Speaker” is pretty close to rock-star status.

Maybe I will just start calling my mom "Madame Speaker" for the hell of it.

Tribal Membership

Last night, Darin, Chris and I headed to the Arizona State Fair in search of the Pet Shop Boys. The state fair has been in full-tilt for a month, complete with dueling Ferris wheels, deep-fried coke vendors, and a host of dirty animals. The fair has also hosted numerous concerts throughout the month, and last night night was the Phoenix stop-over for the Pet Shop Boys' Fundamental tour.

The three of us thought the Arizona State Fair and the Pet Shop Boys made strange bedfellows, but then again, it was the wild, wild west. Reserved seating cost only 20 bucks, and for the chance to see a major band playing less than two miles away, we couldn't pass it up.

In my 30 years of concert attending experience, I have never been to a show that started remotely on-time. But with less than half the venue filled, the Pet Shop Boys were obviously anxious to get the hell out of dodge and the house lights dropped promptly at 7:02pm. The three of us were still shuffling to our seats as the crowd erupted around us, queens hopping and clapping like epileptic rabbits. We sat down to catch a breath and recover.

The first song began. The back-up dancers took to the stage. The crowd quieted in hushed expectancy.

Then I felt it.

tap. tap. tap.

I turned, only to set my sights on a rotund, one-eyed, heavily pierced Native American woman. Let's call her Woo-Woo.

Woo-Woo, in heavy whisper: "OMG! Have you seen Pet Shop Boys before??!! I have. I have seen Pet Shop Boys, New Order, Depeche Mode... I LOVE THEM ALL."

I nodded. I shot my "I don't give a shit but how nice" smile, and turned back around to focus on the concert.

Darin and Chris both shot side glances, acknowledging that I had indeed found a new girlfriend.

Then it happened again.

tap. tap. tap.

Maybe Woo-Woo thought we got off to a rocky start and wanted a little more slap and tickle.
I turned around.
She leaned in.

"Are you two together?" she said, nodding to Chris.
"Uh-huh".

She flipped a thumbs-up, extended her hand in a handshake, and blurted, "I love your kind! All of your people. You're just great!!"

I think I heard Darin swallow his tongue.

I nodded in acknowledgement. I mean, I like my people, too. I felt like I had exclusive membership to the tribe. I know she had good intentions and didn't see that she had indirectly shot the gay tribe down. But Woo-Woo only had one eye. I'll blame it on her tunnel vision.