y Ridr

t wasn’t easy but it had to be
ldone.

I had all sorts of reasons
for not telling my mother I
bought a motorcycle. She’s been
under a lot of stress, during the
past several months, so I didn’t
want to nudge her into maternal
hysteria. I figured that, if I wait-
ed ’til a day when things were
going well and she was relaxed,
the news might receive a more
muted response.

Who was I kidding? I
knew she wouldn’t be pleased —
that was guaranteed. I expected a
bit of a lecture. What I got was,
essentially, the third act of a
Greek tragedy.

I explained that I had
taken a motorcycle training class
with both intensive classroom
and on-the-bike instruction. I ’ve
always been a safe driver and,
now, I was going to be a safe
rider, too. She wasn’t convinced.

After a brief pause, dur-
ing which she took a deep breath
and gathered her strength, she
unleashed a diatribe unlike any
I’ve witnessed in our entire
mother-son relationship. I was
glad to be getting the fiery
onslaught by phone, 2500 miles
away, and not in person.

She cried. She shouted
and screamed. It was a high-tide

 

you want to lose an ann?” she
shrieked.

My mother was merci-
less. She hauled out the tale of a
neighbor’s unfortunate amputa-
tion that resulted from a bike
accident on a stretch of open
road. But she didn’t just recall
the story for me. She made it a
threat: If you ride a motorcycle,
you will lose an arm.

She must have thought
it would be a lone-limbed slam-
dunk because she rested her case
on that note. She seemed to think
that it would be enough to com-
pel me to give in and give up any
thoughts of riding my new bike.

That was out of the
question, and I was beginning to
think that I’d been out of my
mind to tell her about it, in the
first place. What would it have
hurt to keep her in the dark?
What she didn’t know wouldn’t
hurt her, right? Spoken like a true

People will tell us
whatever they think

we want to hear,_

especially if their goal is

tirade that showed no signs of
ebbing.

She recounted one grisly
motorcycle accident story after
another. Just when I thought she
was going to bring her rant to a
close, she pulled out the really
heavy emotional artillery. “Do

to get us in bed.

coward.

She’d have discovered
the truth eventually. There would
be a slip ofthe tongue — more
likely from my partner than me.
And, sooner or later, she’d see a
photo of me on the bike. Martin
had already taken dozens of shots

and she was bound to spot one of
those, at some point.

Truth be told, my moti-
vation for not wanting to tell her
was more about delaying the
inevitable ugly fallout than any-
thing else.

My friend Stephen has
always had a gift for rationaliz-
ing his actions. There was noth-
ing he couldn’t whip up a seem-
ingly plausible reason for doing
or not doing, telling or not
telling. Several years ago, hejus-
tified not telling his lover that
he’d slept with two co-workers
on a business trip because he
didn’t want to ruin his lover’s
“monogamy fantasy.”

A few months later, his
lover got wind of just how much
of a fantasy his allegedly monog-
amous relationship was and sent
Stephen packing.

Always one to land on
his feet (by getting on his back),
Stephen had another boyfriend in
less than a week. Bliss was brief
and Stephen was single, again,
almost as quickly as he’d been
coupled.

This time, he decided to
sow his wild oats unencumbered
by a relationship. He played the
field like a pro. He was also
playing with fire. Between the
break up with his ex-lover and
momentary mating with the
rebound boyfiiend, Stephen dis-
covered that he was HIV-posi-
tive.

Discovery hasn’t led to
disclosure.

Stephen is ready with a
rationalization for not telling his
sex partners about his HIV status.
“They should assume everyone
they sleep with is positive,” he
argues. “I shouldn’t have to tell
them.”

He’s right and he’s
wrong. People will tell us what
they think we want to hear, espe-
cially if the goal is getting us in
bed. Acknowledging that one is
HIV-positive doesn’t fast-track a
trick. Being safe with everyone,
regardless of what their online
profiles say or what they promise
in person, is the best solution.

And we need to be hon-
est with our sex partners. It isn’t
always easy. But it has to be
done. V

D. Scott-Bush is work appears
throughout the country. E-mail
may be directed to
Nakea’Curiosity@aol. com.

Appleseed

cont'd from previous page

any use to her standing there dou-
bled over. In a few minutes Lara
walked out without newspapers.
“You mean he took them?” I
shouted in disbelief.

“Maybe he doesn’t

know what “penile” means,” Lara
said. Years later when the Civil .
Union law was passed in 2000,
“Take Back Vermont” signs were
plastered all over these sweet lit-
tle villages. It took a few years
for Vermonters to strike back, but
at that time no one suspected an
ordinary looking adult woman

dressed in clean dungarees and a
yellow blouse driving a late
model Subaru to infiltrate the

pastoral countryside. V

Crow Cohen is a lesbian feminist
who lives in Burlington.

 
    

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