Good News!
Amid the Wall Street roller-coaster, there’s good news for the LGBT community. We haven’t been blamed.
It’s the first time in a long time that a national disaster has occurred without attribution of the event to the deviance, perversion, and degeneracy of the LGBT community. The religious pundits have tagged us as the source of God’s wrath in tornadoes, typhoons, and tsunamis. But so far, Pat Robertson and his ilk have been silent. They are probably too busy to play the blame game. After all, they have massive investment portfolios to manage. And whether to move their money into gold, or into coconuts in case the gold market tanks, probably requires a lot of time on their knees—in prayer, that is. So that’s the good news.
Another piece of good news—at least on a personal level—is that I’m headed to Rehoboth for a book reading and signing on Sunday, October 2, at the CAMP Rehoboth Courtyard. My book title is Gray & Gay, A Journey of Self-acceptance. It’s not an accumulation of the "Gray and Gay" columns I’ve contributed to Letters during the past decade. Instead, it’s my personal story. As one reviewer said, “Gray & Gay takes us on the decades long journey of a gay man coming to grips with his sexuality against a backdrop of his conventional life as a popular suburban pediatrician, and father of three growing children. It’s a poignant story that moves from self denial to self acceptance and is an inspiration for anyone struggling with identity, love and relationships.” And I didn’t even pay the reviewer to say that.
Another reviewer said, “Dr. Siegfried’s Gray & Gay deserves readership by a wide audience, not merely the core world it depicts.” So I hope straight readers, as well as LGBT readers, will show up for the signing party at CAMP Rehoboth.
Writing a memoir became a major focus of my retirement after I moved to Fort Lauderdale. A ton of books speak to the coming out experiences of younger gays and lesbians. But there’s a dearth of info on those of us who struggled with our sexuality through antiquity—a time when the New York Times wouldn’t even write about homosexuality. Deviance, degeneracy, and perversion were the terms applied by the Times to homosexuals in the forties and fifties.Many of us of that era married and had families. I wanted to document our experience.
My other reason for writing, however, was that with three children now adults, I wanted to share with them something of my struggle. For me, it’s sometimes easier to share in writing than in person. Or more accurately, writing about my life opens the door for further discussion with my kids and with others. It’s been an interesting and rewarding process. The writing, re-writing, editing, and publishing has taken the better part of the past six or seven years. But when asked how long it took me to write my memoir, I sometimes facetiously say, “I’m now eighty-one and I’ve been writing this for the past seventy-eight years.”
A third reason for writing the book is the hope that other men and women, gay and straight—might benefit from some of the experiences that have shaped my life. In a writing seminar I attended several years ago, the woman leading the discussion was asked, “In a memoir, how should I handle sex?” Her response was, “Honestly.” Then she added, “Look, if you’re worried your mother is going to read it, cheer up. She won’t. So write honestly and clearly.”
I’ve followed her advice to the chagrin of a few readers, who have commented that my book is an example of TMI—too much information. But in writing a memoir, I found that honest reporting, not only about sex, but about parts of my life I’d rather forget or downplay, was essential. It does, however, leave me feeling naked on occasion.
This afternoon, for instance, a man got on the elevator in my condo. I recognized him as someone I’ve had a nodding relationship with in the past. Today, he immediately introduced himself and said, “Now I know all about you. I read your book. I know you inside and out.”
“In that case, I guess you do,” I responded.
As he exited on the sixth floor, he added, “But I’d really like to get to know you better.”
It sounded like a great pick-up line to me, one that I want to remember. And can you imagine the delight even the fantasy of a pick-up creates for an eighty-one year old? With a broad smile, I wished him a good day as he exited the elevator.
If there’s any question in your mind why I’m returning to Rehoboth for a book reading, all you have to do is get part way into the narrative and you’ll see why Rehoboth was so important to me. Like many weekenders today, my Friday trip to the beach erased my troubles of the week and provided an opportunity to be in a place where I could be myself. I still recall with warm fuzzy feelings my pleasure at going to the Moon on Friday evening, the Renegade on Saturday, and on Sunday a visit to the Cloud 9 before heading back to D.C.
I hope I’ll see many old friends and readers at CAMP Rehoboth on Oct. 2 starting at 3 p.m. And remember 100% of profits from sales at the book signing go to CAMP Rehoboth.
John Siegfried, a former Rehoboth resident, lives in Ft. Lauderdale. Email John Siegfried