Brothers with Frodo
Our underwear is still getting washed out in the sink, but it's a small inconvenience as we stand in our "Paradise" bedroom and smile at a rainbow over Lake Wakatipu and a mountain range near where Frodo saved Sam from drowning.
Air New Zealand lost three of our four bags somewhere between Los Angeles and Aukland, but the one we did get had in it the dark chocolate from Kilwin's, so I'm happy.
Ray and I are the only same-sex couple staying at the Blanket Bay lodge outside of Queenstown, but it was built and is owned by Tom Tusher, the former President and COO of Levi Strauss, a pioneering company on gay workplace issues, so we feel at home. Nevertheless, the Indian massage therapist from the UK who worked on my shoulder knots this morning commented, "Your friend told me that he'll be waiting in the spa. Are you guys brothers?"
"No," I replied, "he's my partner," to which she answered, "You look so much alike. " We don't, but the question allows people to explain the intimacy between us that they see. (My soon-to-be-published book by the same name explores this phenomenon further.)
I used to feel very lonely on vacations and work-related trips such as this, but not so much anymore. I used to think that Ray and I were the "odd men out," but the reality is that we're actually more "in" than anyone else. We're the only ones who engage other travelers and are engaged by them in conversation. It's not a matter of "gay vs straight" in the dining room today, but rather shy vs. outgoing, or frightened vs. confident. Unless they're rabid social conservatives, (who fortunately aren't often encountered among other tourists), most heterosexuals we meet are eager to talk because they pick up that we're fun, friendly, happy people to know who might be more interesting than the sullen straight couple two tables over.
After lunch today, we're going for a hike. Tomorrow, hopefully in clean and different clothes, we're taking a helicopter ride through the spectacular Milford section of the country where much of "The Lord of the Rings" was filmed. We'll hike again tomorrow afternoon, and the next day kayak for four hours down a fast-moving river. We fly on Thursday to an isolated eco-lodge in Abel Tasman National Park in the northern section of the southern island in which we will kayak and swim with the seals.
The New Zealand segment of our trip is an early celebration of my 60th birthday. We then fly to Melbourne, Sydney, and Singapore where I'm giving a series of talks on gay and transgender issues to the senior leadership of Merrill Lynch, the latter being the first such presentations of the kind for any such audience.
Those are all fun and interesting things to talk about. So, if you were straight and sitting next to us at breakfast in any one of these places and you suspected that Ray and I were gay, you might break the ice by asking "Are you guys brothers?" but after learning the wonderful truth, wouldn't you really rather talk to us about our lives than to the straight couple nearby who are bickering, whining, and who plan to spend their day retrieving e-mails?
One of my regrets with my folks and Ray's folks was that they only grew to accommodate us being gay rather than celebrating it. If they were with us in the dining room on this trip and heard us asked, "Are you guys brothers?" they might have secretly wished that we would simply say "Yes," so as to avoid feelings of discomfort. They never learned to have real fun with us being gay and with the very interesting and rewarding lives we have.
Fortunately, today the world has changed enough that there is no reason to assume as a gay person that you have to endure loneliness on a vacation or business trip when you're surrounded by heterosexuals. Because gay people throughout the world are coming out and putting such wonderful faces on the issue, and because we are growing in our confidence that we have something valuable to share, we're less likely to feel accommodated than celebrated at the breakfast table as people communicate their awe of the rainbow, and learn that you're wearing the same, though washed, underwear that you had on yesterday.
Ray and I are having a ball in the beautiful land of Frodo, and we're doing so as self-affirming and valued members of the fellowship.
Air New Zealand lost three of our four bags somewhere between Los Angeles and Aukland, but the one we did get had in it the dark chocolate from Kilwin's, so I'm happy.
Ray and I are the only same-sex couple staying at the Blanket Bay lodge outside of Queenstown, but it was built and is owned by Tom Tusher, the former President and COO of Levi Strauss, a pioneering company on gay workplace issues, so we feel at home. Nevertheless, the Indian massage therapist from the UK who worked on my shoulder knots this morning commented, "Your friend told me that he'll be waiting in the spa. Are you guys brothers?"
"No," I replied, "he's my partner," to which she answered, "You look so much alike. " We don't, but the question allows people to explain the intimacy between us that they see. (My soon-to-be-published book by the same name explores this phenomenon further.)
I used to feel very lonely on vacations and work-related trips such as this, but not so much anymore. I used to think that Ray and I were the "odd men out," but the reality is that we're actually more "in" than anyone else. We're the only ones who engage other travelers and are engaged by them in conversation. It's not a matter of "gay vs straight" in the dining room today, but rather shy vs. outgoing, or frightened vs. confident. Unless they're rabid social conservatives, (who fortunately aren't often encountered among other tourists), most heterosexuals we meet are eager to talk because they pick up that we're fun, friendly, happy people to know who might be more interesting than the sullen straight couple two tables over.
After lunch today, we're going for a hike. Tomorrow, hopefully in clean and different clothes, we're taking a helicopter ride through the spectacular Milford section of the country where much of "The Lord of the Rings" was filmed. We'll hike again tomorrow afternoon, and the next day kayak for four hours down a fast-moving river. We fly on Thursday to an isolated eco-lodge in Abel Tasman National Park in the northern section of the southern island in which we will kayak and swim with the seals.
The New Zealand segment of our trip is an early celebration of my 60th birthday. We then fly to Melbourne, Sydney, and Singapore where I'm giving a series of talks on gay and transgender issues to the senior leadership of Merrill Lynch, the latter being the first such presentations of the kind for any such audience.
Those are all fun and interesting things to talk about. So, if you were straight and sitting next to us at breakfast in any one of these places and you suspected that Ray and I were gay, you might break the ice by asking "Are you guys brothers?" but after learning the wonderful truth, wouldn't you really rather talk to us about our lives than to the straight couple nearby who are bickering, whining, and who plan to spend their day retrieving e-mails?
One of my regrets with my folks and Ray's folks was that they only grew to accommodate us being gay rather than celebrating it. If they were with us in the dining room on this trip and heard us asked, "Are you guys brothers?" they might have secretly wished that we would simply say "Yes," so as to avoid feelings of discomfort. They never learned to have real fun with us being gay and with the very interesting and rewarding lives we have.
Fortunately, today the world has changed enough that there is no reason to assume as a gay person that you have to endure loneliness on a vacation or business trip when you're surrounded by heterosexuals. Because gay people throughout the world are coming out and putting such wonderful faces on the issue, and because we are growing in our confidence that we have something valuable to share, we're less likely to feel accommodated than celebrated at the breakfast table as people communicate their awe of the rainbow, and learn that you're wearing the same, though washed, underwear that you had on yesterday.
Ray and I are having a ball in the beautiful land of Frodo, and we're doing so as self-affirming and valued members of the fellowship.
