Fewer feather boas... more David Sedaris

As someone who has never gone particularly out of their way to embrace the gay community, here's a thought I'd like to share with my homosexual brethren... and, uh... sisters... (there's very likely a grammatically appropriate word, which I can't think of right now).

This is, of course, just my own circumscribed "breeder" opinion... but if you're really interested in bridging the oft-yawning chasm between gay and straight society... I'm thinkin' you might be further ahead toning down the way-public naked-watergun party... and buying your non-gay neighbours and co-workers anything written by David Sedaris.

He's not everybody's cup of tea, but what he is... is all too recognisable... and virtually impossible to dislike.

“My hands tend to be full enough dealing with people who hate me for who I am.

Concentrate too hard on the millions of people who hate you for what you are and you're likely to turn into one of those unkempt, sloppy dressers who sag beneath the weight of the two hundred political buttons they wear pinned to their coats and knapsacks.”

I just finished reading "When you are engulfed in flames" and I was totally blown away.

But hey... don't take my word for it.

Sedaris's caustic gift has not deserted him in his fourth book, which mines poignant comedy from his peculiar childhood in North Carolina, his bizarre career path, and his move with his lover to France.

Though his anarchic inclination to digress is his glory, Sedaris does have a theme in these reminiscences: the inability of humans to communicate.

The title is his rendition in transliterated English of how he and his fellow students of French in Paris mangle the Gallic language.

In the essay "Jesus Shaves," he and his classmates from many nations try to convey the concept of Easter to a Moroccan Muslim. "It is a party for the little boy of God," says one. "Then he be die one day on two... morsels of... lumber," says another.

And like everybody else... he's got family baggage...

Other essays explicate his deep kinship with his eccentric mom and absurd alienation from his IBM-exec dad: "To me, the greatest mystery of science continues to be that a man could father six children who shared absolutely none of his interests."

Now... this is probably gonna elicit a whole lot of "look at the knuckle-draggin' hater" noise from uber-enlightened souls like CC and Dr Dawg... but I thought I'd put it out there.

Maybe affirming the similarities between our two worlds... rather than the differences... would go a ways toward mending broken fences.

And no... I'm not saying it's your fault, but if you want... it could be your move.

*

(p.s. -- gotta run some errands this a.m., remember... this is just one man's opinion and you can look to the sentiment behind the literal word. everybody try play nice in the comments 'til i get back)