Gay Moments

It is my goal to one day tell a story on the Moth stage (http://www.themoth.org/about). The only way I know to get there is to state a goal and practice, practice, practice. Below is my first steps...hope you enjoy. Happy Monday,

Amanda

Gay Moments from Amanda Vallo on Vimeo.

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It always surprises me when I’m talking to a friend who says, “I didn’t know I was gay” or “I was a late bloomer.”

I always think of gay moments that have been missed. I guess maybe also because I was so painfully aware of mine.

By the age of 10 years, we’ve (i.e., the gay “we”) have all been caught doing something we shouldn’t…

For boys it’s more obvious as they’re caught wearing mom’s hose and high heels or getting to know their “parts” (i.e. penises).

For girls dykes though it’s less clear. It’s what’s lacking. It’s not some brash behavior (minus cutting bows off of underwear) but more of a noticing of not doing what others are doing…wearing make-up, playing with dolls, having a princess phase...

Still there are moments when gay is out there.

I thought I’d give my most memorable best (or worst)

My gay moment was all for the love of Lisa Peters.

Lisa Peters had no discernable talents or ambitions. Not a cheerleader or class president, or athlete. She simply transcended all beings with goddess like beauty.

She was the reason I would line up one hour early to wait for the swimming pool doors to open. Gasps and hearts would flutter when the moment came for a turn at the desk--“Girls to the right boys to the left!” If Lisa had the assignment of stamping my hand and checking my pass…

I could not make eye contact just whisper thanks.

She was the reason I took the 8am swimming lessons in the non-heated swimming pool without too much protest. I would smile and blue-lipped teeth chatter, “Okay, sure” when her command came from dry land to jump in the icy waters…and begin bobs! (jumping up and down to generate warmth).

She was the reason I set my towel down on concrete…just outside of the lifeguard sunning observation deck. The area where off duty life guards lined up their click to full length chairs and took turns monitoring each others tans, oiling and spray misting themselves at proper intervals.

Lisa Peters wore a black one-piece bathing suit but was most remarkable for her long blonde hair. Beautiful and straight…long as a Palomino horse’s tail. She shook it side-to-side and giddy hearts leapt. My beach towel could blow into the pee-filled kitty pool without any awareness when I sat and watched her at safety break.

Safety break-15 minutes of hope and desperation. I watched her bounce effortlessly on the end of the low dive and pike her body into a perfect jack knife. Brown skin piercing the calm of the water she’d bubble to the surface and ripple strokes to the end of the pool. Then, water gushing out of places I dare not look at or mention she’d hop from the pool swooshing her hair back over her shoulders…and splish-splish-splish flying sprays of water with each step. I’d actually lean toward the fall off like a thirsty blade of grass toward the sprinkler…

I had no words for gay yet just helpless feelings and odd behaviors.

I watched as her mile long gams ascend the throne…the lifeguard tower. She was like Rapunzel tossing down her long golden hair. All the young suitors (swim suitors) gathered at her feet as she twirled her silver whistle.

“Tweet tweet! Walk!” She would yell but who could blame the giddiness with which the young boys would run to her side? The older boys kept their composure but the line for the high dive winding in a long snaking “s” belied their need to impress. Every afternoon these young men challenged each other to a “win the girl” competition. Troy Greenwald fanned his tail feathers with the biggest splash dive—the REVERSE SOMERSAULT GAINER with a sleeper finish!

KABLOOOOSH!

Chucky showed no outward appearances of effort in the classroom, the introverted soul nobody could reach, hopped up and down on the board, grabbed his crotch and then launched himself into the air…pulling off the WILD BILL! (i.e. fake like you’re going to do a belly flop, twirl one arm like a cowboy, then FLIP over onto back to land SPLASH!).

(I had none of these in my repertoire).

Lisa would sit unmoved, unaffected…I knew it was Troy she loved best…until she transformed into a giddy schoolgirl. She’d stand and shriek TROOOOOOOOOOOY as the tidal wave of water droplets rained down on her head.

Some days she’d stand and wring out her wet t-shirt too. Although I never minded when she took it off, silently I began to simmer inside at her ignorance and neglect…if she’d notice me I’d help her put the umbrella up!

Lisa Peters loved boys. She did not love me.

This did not stop my world of confused and utter longing. In a wordless gay world I did not want to date or woo her into the backseat of my car. I just wanted to brush her hair for her or carry her towel.

Tweet! tweet!…this is how I found myself 12 feet up in the air, white knuckle grasping to the metal rails of the proving tower (i.e. the high dive). She waved me to the end of the board. “Okay go…go…” She urged without a whisper just a nod and a flash of teenage drama (Look kid the rules of the pool. Didn’t you read them? It’s up the ladder no down. You better jump!).

Mini, Mickey Mouse and I (I had a Disney theme going on the bathing suit) had haltingly pitter pattered down the cold prickly wet board. I peered out over my toes and clasped my hands in a praying position then raised them high over my head. A gust of wind must have blown me over. I sucked in air and fell like a plummeting blue heron…all legs and gangling feet.

I did not like this! The punch of the water shot me awake and I floated up through the bubbling abyss. WOW! That’s cold! I looked over to my lady. Had she noticed me? Was she feeling the same excitement and energy? Did she appreciate the subtlety and superior, courteous nature of my splashless dive?

Troy Greenwald and his meaty calves stood two rungs up the lifeguard tower. Deflated I swam to the ladder using the crawl stroke she had taught me.

Lisa Peters, where is she now?

I do not know but I do know when Mariska Hargitay played her namesake on an episode of Baywatch I felt just as strongly as if it had been her own near drowning.

(see for proof! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=waVcMeCykQ4)

It is the Lisa Peters moments of childhood those unexplained butterfly feelings that adjust and focus our new “gay” world like beads forming a picture inside a kaleidoscope tube.

I’m not talking political or TV/movie moments but inner personal moments that move us forward…the school nurse that made you really dizzy when she held you, the goose bumps when Miss Ohio came into view at the parade, that shot putter with crinkles at the sides of her eyes when she smiled. You just wanted them to be in your world.

We need these moments so can look back and say with wisdom and experience…yes, I’m gay.