Years ago I knew a married gay couple who ran a white cloth, french restaurant. Michael ran the business, Tony ran the restaurant. Michael was well heeled internationally and had specific ideas as to how he wanted his food presented -- so much so that one time he decided to take his Sous Chef, Kevin and Tony on a European Cultural Tour where they would sample the art and cuisine of several countries.
Michael set up the entire trip and their agenda. When they got to Italy, Michael insisted they see the works of the great masters. On their return, Kevin related that at first it was a bit difficult for him because Michael kept interjecting about the artist's sexuality. Michael would say, "These magnificent doors represent the work of early Donatello. He was gay, you know." or "Michelangelo was brilliant He was gay, you know."
Kevin said one day, after Michael had been prattling on several times that he had finally had enough. He looked at Michael and said, "Yes. I understand he was gay. I also understand you are gay. I respect that. You need to respect the fact that I am straight. And if it wasn't for people like me, people like you wouldn't be here!"
After that, the trip went much smoother.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
My Friend Robert
I know an amazing fellow down in Portland. I have known him for eight years now and every time we meet I learn new things about him.
Conversations are always a delight as his knowledge spans many areas of interest. He likes creating art and is quite adept at drawing. He also enjoys dabbling in science. It is not uncommon to find him in the kitchen. He makes a great homemade "pumpkin" pie using two similar squash; but, with a slightly nuttier flavor. . . something he thought up himself, I'm told.
He has a great appreciation of classic black-and-white movies and appreciates Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers' talents. An avid reader, his library spans the tomes of classic literature and current releases. He devours the New Yorker magazine as soon as it arrives by post, much to the dismay of his housemate who ordered the subscription and has to track it down every week.
A more well-rounded gent would be hard to locate. Robert may not know the current Top 40 in the Pop Charts, but he's up on all the latest trends and his musical appreciation spans from jazz to standards, hiphop to orchestra, and almost anything else you can think of. He is taking piano lessons to enhance his musical appreciation.
Did I mention he's tri-lingual? Well, almost. He's fluent in English and Russian and speaks each with no cross-over accent. He sounds native in each tongue. Now's he's working to perfect French.
This past weekend we were driving from Vancouver, Washington back to Portland and the beautiful neighborhood he lives in, where old growth tree-lined streets take you past stately tudor and craftsman homes.
As we drew nearer to the city Robert asked, "Do you know where you're going?" "Oh yeah," I replied, "This is easy for me." Robert looked at the back of my head from the rear seat and said, "Ya sure? 'Cause I know where we need to go."
Robert knows I am not good on finding my way in a city I only visit briefly once a month, but I salvoed back, "That's what you said back there when we turned early." "Well, I may not know Vancouver as well as I should, but I do know Portland," he said. I nodded but wasn't ready to give up and pressed the issue, "But you said, 'I remember this. This is it. Turn here.' and sounded like you knew back there also."
"What do ya want?" came the question from the car seat, "I'm a kid!"
I had to smile. Robert is eight. Sometimes I forget that.
Conversations are always a delight as his knowledge spans many areas of interest. He likes creating art and is quite adept at drawing. He also enjoys dabbling in science. It is not uncommon to find him in the kitchen. He makes a great homemade "pumpkin" pie using two similar squash; but, with a slightly nuttier flavor. . . something he thought up himself, I'm told.
He has a great appreciation of classic black-and-white movies and appreciates Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers' talents. An avid reader, his library spans the tomes of classic literature and current releases. He devours the New Yorker magazine as soon as it arrives by post, much to the dismay of his housemate who ordered the subscription and has to track it down every week.
A more well-rounded gent would be hard to locate. Robert may not know the current Top 40 in the Pop Charts, but he's up on all the latest trends and his musical appreciation spans from jazz to standards, hiphop to orchestra, and almost anything else you can think of. He is taking piano lessons to enhance his musical appreciation.
Did I mention he's tri-lingual? Well, almost. He's fluent in English and Russian and speaks each with no cross-over accent. He sounds native in each tongue. Now's he's working to perfect French.
This past weekend we were driving from Vancouver, Washington back to Portland and the beautiful neighborhood he lives in, where old growth tree-lined streets take you past stately tudor and craftsman homes.
As we drew nearer to the city Robert asked, "Do you know where you're going?" "Oh yeah," I replied, "This is easy for me." Robert looked at the back of my head from the rear seat and said, "Ya sure? 'Cause I know where we need to go."
Robert knows I am not good on finding my way in a city I only visit briefly once a month, but I salvoed back, "That's what you said back there when we turned early." "Well, I may not know Vancouver as well as I should, but I do know Portland," he said. I nodded but wasn't ready to give up and pressed the issue, "But you said, 'I remember this. This is it. Turn here.' and sounded like you knew back there also."
"What do ya want?" came the question from the car seat, "I'm a kid!"
I had to smile. Robert is eight. Sometimes I forget that.
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