My Gay Husband and the "Purse Scene"

As I sit here this evening, my gay husband "Corky" has been stone-faced reading my recent blog posts. Waiting for a reaction that I'll never receive, I should know better than to expect my gay to have the same emotional scope and perspective that I did. My "husband" is honest TO A FAULT! This is a man who actually believes you want the truth when you ask whether you look fat in that skirt or whether or not he really liked that gift you gave him for his last birthday. Yes, when I ask the opinion of my gay best friend, my partner in crime, I have to spell out that I don't actually want the truth, I want the kind, "friend" response.

Case in point, a few years ago I worked for an animal shelter where I was in charge of making a video for a very important fundraiser. The purpose of the video was to show the life of a shelter animal and evoke emotion from animal lovers (and potential donors) much like that commercial for the Humane Society of the United States that uses that damn song by Sara McLachlan. You know the one... Hours were spent on this video, where I painstakenly conceptualized the narrative, wrote the script, interviewed staff, pieced together dozens of photos, and worked with a local television station to produce the final cut. I was so proud of the end product and couldn't wait to show my loved ones what I had accomplished. Whether it was the pride I felt in having been part of this amazing process or the emotion I felt each time I watched this heart-felt video about homeless, unwanted and abused animals, I cried (despite countlessly watching it scene-for-scene over many months) every single time I watched it.

A few days before the big fundraiser, I brought my BFF, my gay husband, to my office to show him the video I had worked so hard on these many months. As I pressed "play" I anticipated the flood of emotion that would soon commence, however, it soon became clear that the only "flood" was from my own tears as I watched the video for the hundreth time. Meanwhile, "Corky," my gay husband, sat watching the same video as I did but with no visible emotion and Kalahari Desert-dry eyes. What was wrong with him? Didn't he see the same pictures of helpless animals that I did? Didn't he understand that the poor caged animals in the film were exactly why I worked as hard as I did? Apparently not.

When the video was over, I asked "Corky" what he thought of it. In the same unimpressed manner in which he spent the last ten minutes watching the efforts of all my hard work, he said "it was nice." No tears, no emotion, no dramatic praise. Instead of questioning my best friend (who also has two cats and a dog who he adores) whether this video brought any emotion at all to the surface, I decided that "Corky's" empathetic priorities and weaknesses were much different than my own. Clearly, we should agree to disagree.

After watching the video (my failed experiment in attempting to make my Pinocchio a "real boy,") we left my office to go see the movie, Sex and City. Little did I know that the same cold-hearted, dry-eyed martyr that sat through my "orphan animals" video not an hour earlier would BAWL HIS EYES OUT every five minutes of this silly, fictional, fashion-focused chick flick! The peak of his emotional outburst, the "purse scene!" This was the part of the movie where one Manhattan fashionista gives her assistant, another Manhattan fashionista, a designer purse as a Christmas gift. I know, I know... I can almost hear the tears falling right now!

The moral of the story, never expect your friends (even your BFF) to have exactly the same passions as yours. And always expect your gay husband to enjoy a good chick flick (and a great cry) with you.