Gay as a Handbag Full of Rainbows

FADE IN on Wry hanging upside-down from bed-frame, talking on cellphone with hands-free headset.

MANDY (O.S.): Don't laugh! I thought it was going to be a Man From Snowy River type thing. How was I supposed to know something called "Brokeback Mountain" would be about gay cowboys? The box didn't say they were gay, it just said they were learning about love, or something.

WRY (laughing): Did you all watch the whole thing?

MANDY: Well, yeah. I closed my eyes during the yucky parts, though. I felt sorry for the guys, though. I don't think they liked it.

FREEZE FRAME

WRY (V.O.): I had a good laugh at Mandy's expense that day. But in fairness to her, I think I should tell you about a somewhat similar experience of my own.

::

'Twas the week before dorm move-in. I was absent-mindedly mowing the lawn, because mowing the lawn is an excellent opportunity to be absent-minded.

Dad's Avalon came up the subdivision's main street and turned in at our corner. Mom was driving; her left knee was giving her some sort of trouble; she couldn't drive her own manual-transmission car, so she was using Dad's automatic.

The car screeched to a purposeful stop in the driveway. Mom climbed out. She looked a little agitated, so I stopped to see what was going on.

"Next time you leave your CDs in Dad's car, warn me so I won't be in there singing along with gay love songs!"

I blinked.

"Ebbeh... err... what?"

Mom climbed back in the car, turned it on, and started playing one of my most recent favorite songs, "City Hall" by Vienna Teng.

Sure enough. It was all about the city hall lesbian marriages in SF a few years ago. (Lyrics)

That got me to thinking, though: In a lot of ways, the sentiments expressed in the music and lyrics of "City Hall" have a nobility and purity not present in most love songs; does the fact that both the singer and the subject are female negate its value? Not completely, I don't think. Partly, yes. But not completely.