Yeah, people love to hit my hot buttons, probably because I am so easy to suck into a debate. This generally happens over politics, but sometimes it happens over other topics. Like, oh say, the Red Sox and music.

Now, I’m not going to reveal the source of my irritation. He knows who he is and, admittedly, he loves to get me going. I didn’t have the opportunity to pursue the drive-by discussion he started with me yesterday because he had me at a disadvantage. I was working. So, I’ll make my case now and, if he so chooses, he can reply by commenting on this post.

The Beatles vs. The Rolling Stones

Before I rip into the Stones, let me say that I think they’re a great rock and roll band…but that’s where it ends. They are defined by one type of music only. Not so with The Beatles. In fact, listen to Rubber Soul. It’s one of the most eclectic albums of all time and many consider it their best. I find it impossible to name a “best” Beatles album. There are many potential candidates for that honor. Rubber Soul is one, but Revolver, Sargeant Pepper and Abbey Road are also stand outs.

Yes, let’s give the Stones the longevity award, but some bands don’t know when to leave, just like sports figures (read: Brett Favre). Yes, they are still propping Mick Jagger up, botoxing his lips and going on stage, but the Stones haven’t made a meaningful album since Steel Wheels, and that was back in the 80s. The stuff since then is mediocre to blah; their best stuff is their old stuff.

In the relatively short time the Beatles were together (a mere seven years; even Wings was around longer), they had an incredible influence on music. Not only is their list of accomplishments impressive, but they were “out there.” They were doing things musically that others were not doing. They pushed the envelope because they wanted to push it, and the Beatles were smart enough to choose a guy like George Martin to help them realize their musical genius.

Eric Clapton may be considered the greatest guitarist in rock music, but even Eric Clapton credits George Harrison with “inventing” the lead guitar solo.  The Beatles were the first to use instruments like the French horn, and the first to use an orchestra (The London Philharmonic) in their music. They were so far ahead of the curve on so many different levels: The concept album, songwriting, and the birth of the music video. The best thing of all about the Beatles was that you always knew it was them — they were very distinctive — but no two songs sound the same.

In fairness to the Stones, maybe they never wanted to be anything but a great rock n’roll band. More power to them. They are all that. I have most of their music as well. Music innovators? Hardly. Pioneers? Not even close.

Come on, Paulie, bring it on!

Some people know they’re gay from the womb. That’s me. Now, that doesn’t mean that I acknowledged it from the get go. Knowing and accepting are two very different things. When I was really young, I didn’t necessarily have a word for what it was. A few things stood out, though. First, I played ‘doctor’ exclusively with girls. Never boys. Second, I never spent time looking at other girls’ boyfriends, but I spent a lot of time looking at a lot of guys’ girlfriends. Third (and this was as I grew older), I never thought about dating — or anything else for that matter– with the opposite sex. Never. I mean it. To this day, I’m the world’s oldest virgin in that respect. I’m not curious. I don’t feel as though I’m missing anything (as some of the more unwitting have asked). I’m not interested in going there.

Now, all of this being said, there’s nothing easy about being gay. I have this argument with conservatives every day: It’s isn’t sexual preference. It’s sexual orientation. People do not just wake up on a Thursday and decide to be gay. People may very well wake up one day and realize that they are gay, but I can assure you that they’ve been gay for a long time.  I also propose that nobody would choose this life. Why? Because they have to put up with the assholes who argue differently. Like they know better. In spite of the fact that coming out now is easier than it was when I came out, I feel like I came out at the greatest time. And I feel as though I came out at the greatest time because there was a social support system in place that has all but been replaced by the Internet. Only, the Internet isn’t a very good replacement because it takes away the human element. The gay bars are what I’m talking about here people.

The best of times

Like I said, coming out in Boston was a freakin’ blast. It had the best bars, and not one was the same as the other. We always used to tell each other, “You don’t want to get involved with anyone hanging out at a bar.” But that didn’t stop us from taking them home (or going home with them). We just knew they weren’t ‘relationship’ material. Frankly, we all went out in a bunch just to have a great time. If we met someone, so be it. However, that wasn’t the goal.

In fact, it is here that I will tell you about my friend Lida, as straight as an arrow, who loved the bars and came with us whenever she could (much to her husband’s chagrin, as I recall). I remember that I used to be her cover in case anyone tried to hit on her.  There were a couple of other straight women who used to come out with us as well, but I cannot remember their names — although I can see their faces.

Boston had great bars, no question. For a general good time, there was Buddies. There were more men than women, but it certainly was a mixed bar. Great dancing. Loud. Wild. Crazy. I have this image of dancing to that frackin’ Patrick Hernandez song, “Born To Be Alive,” and the image is on the Buddies dance floor. I know I went off on this in a previous post about the tie between gays and disco. My guy friends used to love Sporter’s for a men’s bar. This was definitely a cruise bar; no question about it. I only went a couple of times. It was definitely not mixed.

For women, the best damned place in Boston was a bar called Somewhere, which was in the Financial District. This place was perfect. If you went upstairs, you could dance to the loud pulsing beat of the music. Downstairs, you could sit at the bar and stare at Jackie (the bartender that just about every woman that walked into that place was in love with), play pool or sit in the comfy area (complete with sofas, chairs and a coffee table) and just plain old shoot the shit. The music downstairs was provided by a juke box. Even the guys liked it here, although this bar was definitely for women and they got ADHD pretty quickly without the sight of men other than each other.

There was one other bar worth mentioning. It was a place in Allston, Massachusetts, called Our House. I have fleeting visions of this place, but they are always good visions. I remember it being a restaurant/bar set up — not like today’s Club Cafe in Boston. It was more a laid back environment. The place was really cool. If any of my friends are reading this post and remember Our House, I’d love you to comment and tell me what you remember about it!

My point is that we had a place to go. Now, places are gay on certain nights. The only problem is that we’re gay every night. Know what I mean? More than anything, the bars gave us numbers. They showed us we weren’t alone. We had our space where we felt absolutely safe being ourselves. I’m pretty open. I really don’t worry about what people think anymore. Times have changed in that regard. Gay people are now a part of the mainstream. But I still miss the bars. I miss the cameraderie. I miss having that space or zone. Back then –  during the 70s and 80s — the bars were critical to us and we spent plenty of time there.

Beth and I got to talking about television the other day and, invariably, we started comparing notes about the shows we grew up on. We had some really screwed up stuff back then — like The Banana Splitz. Anybody willing to admit to that one? Okay, if you’re admitting to it. Can you name them? I can. There’s Fleegle (beagle), Bingo (gorilla), Drooper (lion) and Snorky (elephant). This was really pretty awful stuff with lots of “bubble gum” era music. It was like Fraggle Rock gone bad.

Here’s one Beth didn’t even know about (but then again, I”m six years older than Beth so I’ve had the benefit of a few more years of bad television): Fantasmic Features hosted by a wacky looking little alien named FEEP. This came on about eleven at night, so it was exciting because I got to stay up late and watch TV. Fantasmic Features consisted of bad 50’s sci fi. Feep worked hard at trying to scare the shit out of you, and it worked when you were pre-teen, I can tell you that.  Later in life I used to get whacked and watch it for a laugh.

How about Daktari with Clarence the Crosseyed Lion? Or Jonny Quest (this was a favorite of mine for many years). They actually brought this show back recently and it just wasn’t the same. Before there was Star Trek and the Enterprise, there was Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea and the Seaview. Anybody remember The Rat Patrol? Or Lost in Space? “Danger, Will Robinson!”

Waaaay back, I remember my parents watching Sing Along with Mitch. This was always a must at Christmas. But the biggest thrill came when we all gathered around the television set to watch my oldest sister on Dick Clark’s American Bandstand.

But the cartoons were the best of all, and the best of all the cartoons  had to be Rocky & Bullwinkle (Moose & Squirrel). They were just awesome, and their enemies — like Boris and Natasha — were just unbelievably funny. This show was just so much the reflection of the ‘cold war’ mentality gripping the nation at the time.