National "a..DUUUUUUUUUH!" Day

My friend Scott and I went to see Altar Boyz last night at the LaSalle Bank Theater, and this time we didn't have to sprint from the train to the theatre entrance. After calming down a bit after the big tubby old NAMbLA member sat in front of me, I listened to one of the songs that featured the obviously gay boy confessing a long-kept secret. We all thought he would confess his gayness, but you'll just have to see the show to find out what happens!

Today happens to be National Coming Out Day, when closeted queens and altar boyz tell the world that they love to smoke pole. It's supposed to be a day where people can feel comfortable about their sexuality and receive support from their family and friends. It's also a day to raise awareness of the LGBT community, because nobody would know that gay people are anywhere in the world if it weren't for National Coming Out Day.

If you know me, then you know how I feel about this day and every other "day" like Christmas and birthdays. I look at my calendar and it's full of "days." Why do people only celebrate things on certain days instead of every day? It doesn't make it less special, in my opinion. It only makes it meaningful:

"Oh yes, it's December 25 so I have to be nice to people because it's in the spirit of the holiday. On December 26, I will go back to treating you like dirt!"

National Coming Out Day... psha! As if the world doesn't already know who is gay or not. A lot of people tell me: "Richie, that's not fair! Not everyone has a finely tuned gaydar like yours." This used to be true, but there are gay people EVERYWHERE! They're at the supermarket, they're at every hair salon in Chicago, and they're also on the writing staff of every witty show on television. Chicago is so gay that there are unisex bathrooms at all the cool clubs because none of the women are scared that a gay man is going to pitch a tent just by looking at their cooters.

It used to be so hard to find your fellow gays. You had to rely on your "Highlander" sense to know if the person you were cruising is a fellow ass bandit. You used to be able to only find the gays by attending Champions on Ice, but now you can just go to Capitol Hill.