It's been almost eight months since ink has hit the paper. Don't get excited meine Freunde. It's an anomaly. The idea for this piece was brought on by newly exposed gay guy, Jason Collins of the NBA and a track and field man, Derrick Anderson, from The Ohio State University. Anderson, from Texas, exposed (ha-ha) himself to the Columbus Dispatch sports media for being homosexual. The writer of the piece(2 pages worth), Todd Jones, must be feeling like Joseph Pulitzer about this major scoop in journalism and his ability to have his column placed on page 1 of the sports section. It's like my sons used to say about guys like Dick Gephardt and Tom Daschle when they were running for office and looking for issue votes. "Oh, if only I had a lesbian child. Life would be wonderful and I'd pick a hundred or so votes". Todd Jones just found his Tom Daschle.
The real crux of this story is that I'm getting more than ill at the thought of these closet people and the fame they are receiving because they happened to be born with a certain gene that makes then all wishy washy when someone of a certain sex flashes their pearly whites. I don't want to hear about them, read about them or have feelings of sympathy or pride in their decision. Please, guys, keep it in the bedroom.
However, because of the hulabaloo raised about 'Coming Out' I've decided to contact Mr. Anderson and give him my life story. It will ease my conscience for all these years of deceit and I, too, will be able to come out of my own personal closet. It will be therapeutic for all my family and for moi. You will be shocked, I promise.
It all started in 1962. I was a dating neophyte and for the Homecoming Dance at Boone High School I nervously asked Dianne Tingwald to be my date. The evening went well and then there was another date and another after that. Very soon we became an item. I also began noticing a change in my body. I had a tingly feeling in my stomach about Miss Tingwald. It wasn't long before we were doing things like kissing and kissing and more kissing. It's been fifty-one years since then and I want to announce that I, like Derrick Anderson, am telling all of you that I am a 'Flaming Heterosexual'. At the time I wasn't sure who to tell. I didn't want to call the newspaper because those things weren't openly talked about. Most assuredly I couldn't tell Mr. Tingwald. He was a farmer and had forearms the size of ham hocks so I let it slide.
In '64 I left for college. I did everything possible to keep my sexuality under wraps. I dated other girls but didn't tell anyone, not even frat brothers. Besides, how would it look talking about my conques--oops--relationships.
In 1969 MJ Hawkeye made the ultimate move. I married a GIRL. Not only would my friends know the truth about my sexual preferences but the state of Iowa would learn the same. Three children came along in forty-three years plus we've added nine grandchildren but I can't take credit for them. In retrospect my offspring must be 'flamers' too. I'm concerned and I'm nervous about what's to come with my admission to society. I suspect a member of the "Dispatch will be on my doorstep soon. I'm embarrassed but it's what had to be done(for the children).
Call it personal courage if you will but I thought it necessary to let the world know about my weird ideas, my thoughts and my sexuality.
It isn't easy being a heterosexual and I only ask one thing. Don't tell my wife. I don't think she suspects a thing.