"There’s a reason a gay bar of 300 guys needs two security guards…and a straight bar of 300 needs 10 guards."
— Cyd Zeigler jr., Outsports.com blogger, in a posting about Oklahoma City shootings in the wake of the Thunder beating the Lakers. This quote is all too true. Here in San Francisco on a Friday or Saturday night, walk around North Beach and then walk through the Castro. In North Beach, cop cars patrol like crazy. In the Castro, there is probably one lonely unit roaming the streets and you know the fuzz inside is itching to get a laugh out of watching some Jerry Springer-style hair pulling.
Okay, last one and then I will go to sleep, even though it’s only 9:30 — but hey, that’s what weekends are for.
There’s a website called Outsports and recently they posted an article about how most pro athletes are fine with playing with gay players and that it would be perfectly A-OK with them for closeted players to come out except for the fact that usually it’s those closeted players’ agents who stop them.
I’ve always joked to Ray about how whenever I read a quote from your agent in the press, he sounds smarmy, even though what he has said usually is not smarmy at all. But it’s the vibe that I get, probably because of a movie like Jerry Maguire or a TV show like Entourage. In reality, your agent is probably the nicest guy on the planet…
If you and I ever did meet, I’ve prepared myself for the possibility that we’d have nothing in common and that even a passing friendship would be difficult to muster. Well, no, let me take that back. When it comes to having many different interests, I’m pretty flexible. And I have a great sense of humor, so I can laugh at a lot of things. I think I’d be easy to hang around, even if I don’t have the same interests as you. What I’m trying to say is that, being so close to turning 30-years old, I have to let go of this romanticization I have of you. Every now and then I think about what I like that you probably wouldn’t like, and that makes me sad. But why should it? You’re a totally different, separate person with your own identity, your own likes and dislikes. Hey, if you don’t like Alison Krauss, you don’t like Alison Krauss.