The Allure of the Closet

 

BY ERNIE MCLEOD

I confess: I bought the
Star. Normally, when those
titillating headlines scream
out for my attention, I sneak a
quick peek in the check—out.
That’s how I learned about
Don Johnson buying gay
porn and dildoes. (Joke gifts,
Don insisted — uh-huh.) But
this particular headline was
irresistible: “Kevin Spacey
Romps with Male Model!
Oh, Boy! Amazing photos of
Oscar winner’s secret double
life.” Ditch intellectual pride,
my enquiring mind had to
know!

As usual with this brand
of, uh, journalism, the actual
article and accompanying
photos were disappointingly
ambiguous compared to the
titillating title. Besides, why
should I care about Mr.
Spacey’s private life? Though
I am male, I’m not a model,
and with us living on difl‘er-
ent coasts and all, the odds of
the Oscar winner romping
with me are, alas, remote. In
other words, I have no per-
sonal stake in with whom
Kevin romps. « ,

Likewise, Ricky Martin.
When I heard that Ricky was
going to be on the Barbara
Walters pre-Oscar special and
that she was going to pop The

Big Question, you can bet I
wasn’t in the library reading
Sartre when the" appointed
hour rolled around.

When Baba asked, did
Wicky tell? Not exactly:
“Thank you so much for giv-
ing me the opportunity to
express, the rumors. But,
Barbara, for some reason, I
just don’t feel like it. You
know, it’s, it’s something so
mine. I give it all when I’m
on stage. I give it all in inter-
views, but you’ve got to keep
something for yourself some-
times, and that’s for me.”

Having spent the first two
decades of my life entirely in
the closet, and a third with the
door barely ajar, I have no
desire — as a fourth crawls
toward its conclusion — to go
back in time. The door is
wide open now, baby, rip it
off the hinges! Which ties in
neatly with June being Pride
Month. Out! Loud! "Proud!
Wave those rainbow flags
and let freedom ring.

Important as I believe it is
to be out .in one’s personal
life, when it comes to the arts,
I’ve recently discovered I’m
a closet‘ advocate. Or rather,
an advocate for the closet.

What does this mean
exactly? It means that when

-Ricky didn’t come out (as

either het or homo), I unex-
pectedly found myself think-

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together

ing: good for you. Keep it for
yourself and for the one you
love. Why should I know?
The odds of us shaking our
bon-bons together are about
as favorable as those of a
romp with Kevin.

Some will argue “but he
could be a role model!
Remember when you were
young those many decades
ago and there were no openly
gay people in magazines, on
the radio, on TV, in the
movies?” I do, and I remem-
ber how any hints of gayness
filled me with terror and
excitement. (Not that I was
quick to catch on — “YMCA”
and “In the Navy” never
struck me as gay songs, for
example.) But those days are
gone. More and more, gay
people exist in our real lives.
We shouldn’t need gay
celebrity role models. We
should need gay celebrities
who do interesting work.

Last fall, when Ellen and
Anne were invited to UVM
as part of Coming Out Week,
Kevin (not Spacey) and I
were there. Stars in our midst,
how could we not go?! I’m
sure they had only good
intentions in coming, but,
honestly, I found the evening
— to put it indelicately —

$§.§$E°§° 3': ? $3

June 2000__| Out in the Mountains [39

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