The station of choice for Chinquapin Parish.

‘Brokeback Mountain, my father, and me’

An essay: When the Rodeo Starts |

After an hour and a half, my father still had yet to give the vaguest sign of recognition that he was in a den of fags. His repose was crazy-making. I was about to eat the silverware.

Finally, I blurted, “Do you realize what kind of place you’re in? Do you know this is the biggest gay bar in town?”

He nodded. Deep wrinkles, from years of narrowing his eyes — hard expressions I’d always seen as angry or suspicious — now looked softer, like traces of wincing and fear. He spoke carefully, as if the sentence were a thing he didn’t want to drop: “I had begun. To figure that out.”


Written by Jeff

Wednesday, March 22, 2006 at 4:00 pm

Posted in Links

One Response

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  1. Great link and story. Thanks for posting it.


    Sunday, March 26, 2006 at 11:20 am

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