NCOD

(National Coming Out Day, fyi) This blog'll be a departure from what I usually write so I'll be fine if you want to skip it.

There's been a lot of fuss in the media that wasn't mine-related having to deal with bullying. Kids are mean. There is that awful time when we all start to identify with what our identities are and who we think we are and...all the confusion. And you don't want to be confused. And it's so immensely frustrating. Awful. And for those who "develop" earlier, the one's who people say have bad self-images so they put down others- They end up being in power. I was bullied. Over stupid shit. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I didn't wear the nice shit other people were wearing. I didn't wear deodorant like other kids. I couldn't afford good cologne so I wore what was in the bathroom closet. I was pushed. I had gum put in my hair. Someone even got on my case for wearing a 1987 Twins sweatshirt in 1988. And the best one? I was told I look like a girl. Great.

The bottom line, is that kids can be mean. Like little rattlesnakes who can't control the amount of venom when they bite, they will let loose with both barrels and have no idea of the consequence. Or care. I always thought that bullying was more of a physical thing. When I was in High School, I was in a class with a kid who was put ahead. He was portly. Acne scarred. Pale. And ripe for the guy I sat next to to rip on. And one day when I saw him flicking the kids ear when they walked into class, I up and punched the guy. He never touched the kid again so long as I was around.

So I wish that I was the hero, but I guess the truth is I wasn't.

Last night, Moda and I watched this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ax96cghOnY4&feature=player_embedded

Bullying. It's been all over. It's on Facebook. I've seen celebrities rally against it. I think the one we watched last night above took me by surprise when he talks about his dad. I lost it. And I wanted to take a sec to tell my 4 or 5 readers about one of my best friends.

Steve. (Or is it...Sssssteve)


I've known Steve since 1991 when he was a Sophomore at my high school. We were in the One-Act Play together that year as well as the musical. And we big kids teased his ass ruthlessly. The Seniors. Juniors. It wasn't the horror show you'd think by reading the newspapers. We didn't beat him. Shove him in a locker. A lot of what we did was because he was new. He was young. It was hazing "lite". We'd circle around him calling him "soph" (Oooooo). And on occasion...once in a while. We'd call him faggot.

Gay.
Fat.
Pimple face.

In fact, here's a good story (Thanks, memory) There were student reviews of that One-Act. On one of the slips of yellow review paper, it said: "I liked how Steve played the fat and greasy guard so good". Now, to be fair I'm sure a lot of the kids didn't think we'd be reading them, but there we sat there after school in a circle, crossed legged on the stage and read them all. And I'll never forget his reaction...

"Well fuck them!"

(Gotcha. He wasn't sad. He was pissed. And the rest of us felt really bad for him. We lightened up a lot after that)

After High School, Steve started up at North Hennepin. (With yours truly being a seasoned community college boy). And when the theatre dept. musical rolled around, we found ourselves back together onstage. We started hanging out together and before you know it, we're buddies. Parties. Cabin trips. Roller blading. Bike riding. In fact, he helped us find out some of the best places to go dancing. (Best, meaning "where you wouldn't get carded") And one of those joints was the Saloon.

We liked going there because they gave us wristbands even though we were all underage. Sure, we kinda figured it was a g'bar but who cared?!?! We could drink our Sex on the Beaches and Bud Lites in peace! We could dance on the speakers! They played awesome TECHNO!!!

After a while we all sort of started to wonder about our buddy. We'd unsuccessfully tried to get him laid a couple of times. When the girl (I later ended up dating) confessed to having the hots for him, we few got in his face about it. "Dude. She wants you. If you don't get with that, you're gay. End of story" (Ah. How funny it is when you aren't in high school and say it.) We even got them to play a paraphrased (albeit awkward) version of "Seven minutes in heaven". He was on his way. 20 years old. Time for somebooty.

Shortly after that, I was dumped. On my ass. And I was maudlin. And suuuuper-depressed. And Steve was there for me. Most of my other close friends would say "too bad" or the super comforting "whatever"- but Steve took the time to listen. He listened at Benchwarmer Bob's over beers as I cried for her back and said to me "Do you really want her back?" And one night when I needed to vent the kid had me drive him back to the Saloon. I remember how weird it was. It wasn't a party night. The dance club wasn't open yet. It was just a depressing Sunday. And we sat in the bar area for a long time. In the quiet. And this, friends, is where some of my favorite dialogue of our friendship came up:

Me- "Man...if you can't communicate...you can't have a relationship. ______ and I? We couldn't communicate, man. Trust. Trust, and talking. Yeah." (Our writer sniffles)
Steve- "Well dude. It could be worse"
Me- "No. No way."
Sssssteve- "Well. I'm gay."

And that was it. He told me I was the first straight person he told. He hadn't even told his family yet. And I guess it would have been a bigger deal had I not kiiiiinda figured it out. (Oh. He did tell me if I told anyone before he had a chance to, he'd kill me) Within our immediate circle of buddies the reactions varied. The aforementioned girl who liked him...well, he probably shouldn't have came out to her at a Perkins after she bought them tickets to see Wynona Judd. (Her expression, when I met them later. Was legendary) My other best friend...well he had a more nuanced and tactful approach. ("Wait, what? You're a gay? Do you like wearing womens shoes or some shit?" Please note- It was shortly after this that I learned that calling something you don't like "gay" is considered rude. Thanks for the sensitivity lesson, friend.)

The biggest reason he is one of my best friends is that the kid has been there for me. Time and again. When shit flies in life, as shit is wont to do- (In my case, getting dumped. Or losing a dad) He's been there. And I think that is a pretty good average.

Okay, so why this lengthy gay ramble, you ask? (Or "Gramble"). But sir, you've been in theatre for nearly 20 years. Clearly this is not to absolve your mind of teenage transgressions? Good for you for being so cosmopolitan. Or something.

Well, if you've come this far. And if you do know of this kind of bullying behavior. Or know someone who needs support. Please tell them-

It does get better. It does. You do have friends. And you should never have to live with that kind of hatred. Or anger. Saying it doesn't matter because they are young and say dumb things doesn't make it right. There are people that care more than you know. More than you might be willing to believe. And you should cling to that like it's a life preserver. It is hard. Being yourself is hard. But you need to believe that you can be. Because you might be a best friend to someone who needs you to be there for them someday.