No one likes a nelly homo

-- Here, quite succinctly and bluntly, the author succeeded in equating masculine to "normal," suggesting of course that if you are a man who doesn't live up to his standard of masculine, you are not normal.

It hit me that this is exactly what our enemies in the heterosexual world have long done to us, as a way to stereotype us, humiliate us, put us down and demean us. As a way to make us less equal.

Now, they don't need to anymore. Looks like we're doing a plenty good job of doing it to ourselves.

I UNDERSTAND THE attraction of a manly man. I run around in the bear and leather crowds, two sub groups famous in the gay world for their almost fetish-like worship of masculine imagery.

I have had a beard since I was 19, and I go to the gym and aim for the bulging biceps look like so many other gay men. When I go out, I am more likely to wear Wrangler's than Ralph Lauren. You're not going to see me in anything that is frilly or shiny or gold lame.

If I see a guy I like, and I get up the courage to say hello, I'm sure my voice drops half an octave. In the world of machismo, I can "pass."

But it wasn't always like that for me. When I was a school kid growing up in central Pennsylvania, I was the classic sissy. I played violin. And clarinet. And piano.

I was book smart. I even liked reading and math and history. I sucked at sports. In gym class, I was always the last one to be picked for a team.

The only activities I was good at on the playground during recess were jump rope and dodge ball. The girl games.

My older sister frequently used to have to protect me from bullies on the playground. Even girls would beat me up. The reason I got picked on, of course, was that I was different.

I was softer and gentler. I didn't exemplify the standard notion of what it meant to be a boy. And that obviously scared and threatened the other kids, who were already so well indoctrinated by society even at such an early age.

So their reaction was to lash out and beat me up.

I thought about my playground days as I stood there at a Gay Pride event and watched the group of burly "butch" men pick on the "nelly queen." It occurred to me the situation wasn't so different from my schoolyard days.--