One of the nice things about getting extremely old is that you can get away with almost anything. As an example, I can crowd in the front of the line at the market’s checkout stand, demand my 10% senior’s discount, and openly ogle the large-breasted women waiting in the cue. So far, people grumble under their breath, but no one has tried to beat me up yet. I consider myself lucky in this regard, and will continue my bad behavior for as long as I can. However, I have to tell my readers of this new blog that I am pushing the envelope in an entirely new direction.
You see, after many years of pretending I was straight, I can now admit my sexual orientation: I am a lesbian in a man’s body. This insight scuttled across my brain like a lizard over a hot rock a few weeks ago at the health club where I work out.
Now, I know many of you are dealing with the issue of ‘Gay Rights’ in the military, a subject that never arose during my service in the U.S. Air Force. This is not to say that I did not serve with Gay people. I’m sure there were some, and I feel badly for them as those who were found out suffered a lot or were kicked out of the service. I have no objection to people exercising their right to be themselves, and in today’s world, I’m glad they can freely exercise their rights without censure; except for marriage—a subject where the jury is still out. In my home state of Utah, the citizens are fighting this concept tooth and nail.
I think the best solution is a civil union for Gay people, with all of the rights enjoyed by married folks that goes by a different name, such as being ‘United in Love’. But, I digress.
My new insight has created a problem for me at the gym. After I realized that I was actually a lesbian in a man’s body, all of my recent lewd behavior toward the women working out, especially the 18-year old blondes, became explainable. Previously, I had attributed it to simply being a ‘dirty old man’. Unfortunately, whenever I try to exercise my rights by going into the ladies rooms at the gym to shower, get dressed, or soak in the hot tub, they all scream and run, tossing tennis shoes and dirty linen at me like I’m some kind of freak.
I’m very confused, and need some guidance here.
