Not having learned from last year’s hellish 10+ hour drive with two dogs and a car full of crap, Tom and I decided to make another trek down to San Diego to see Tom’s Two Dads and his grandparents for Turkey Day this year. Was I excited? Honestly… yes and no. Or, more properly, No… and yes.

It’s not that I don’t like Tom’s Two Dads. Both Brogan and Des are quite cool. Brogan may be soft spoken (and that’s quite an understatement. When Tom, his bro and Brogan all get together, it’s a total mumble-fest. Perhaps it’s another language. Neither Des nor I can hear enough to tell.) but he’s got quite a sense of humor. And Des is just plain fun. They’ve been together for something like 20 years now… and recently got married in Toronto.

Tom’s grandparents are …. kind to me. Two Christmases ago they took Tom and I to their Country Club. I got introduced to the mayor of their little New England Burb as their grandson’s “lady-friend”. However… they are Catholic, conservative, racist, homophobic (yes, they’re doing better… but still have a way to go) and basically everything that rubs me the wrong way (to put it lightly). Can you sense the tension yet?

The rest of the tension comes from my struggle to curb my substance use - particularly alcohol. I haven’t been very good with it lately and all of the San Diego crew are not noted for their sobriety. By any stretch of the imagination. Grammy and Pop? They’re known for Noonsies.

So, at Tom’s insistance, we dragged our exhausted asses out of bed at the ungodly hour of 3:30 am on Thursday and managed to leave right at 4. Tom was hoping to beat the traffic. The sun still hadn’t risen by the time we reached Gilroy, and let me tell you, the scent of garlic on the air before breakfast? A very strange thing indeed. Much of the drive was an olfactory… novelty. Ah, the lovely tang of AgriBusiness. Smelling that every day might just make even the most dedicated carnivore switch sides.

With Lead-Foot-Tom driving, we made it to Brogan and Des’s house in 7 hours flat, stopping only once for gas and once to let the Beasts do whatever they might need to. We missed most of the traffic and I got to sleep for several hours.

One of the reasons we were supposed to arrive early was to meet The Lesbians. This is exactly what Tom told me. “Brogan and Des want us to meet The Lesbians and they can’t stay for dinner.” It cracked me up. It made me wonder if it’s because they’re friends… or because I’ve finally come out to them? Or both? Either way, I’m glad we made it in time. U. and R. were absolutely wonderful. Grammy, Pop, Tom, Brogan and I sat out on the deck with them and chatted. U. is from South Africa, and has had quite the interesting life. I would love to get to know her better. She has a wicked sense of humor, and was not daunted in the least by the grandparents. She flipped Des off right in front of them, told him to ‘fuck off’. And when Grammy said she was becoming ‘more liberal’, R. clapped her on the back and said, “Isn’t it great? It’s much more fun.” And Grammy just looked sort of shell-shocked. I’m not sure she’d ever been touched by a real-live lesbian before.

Friday was spent with Tom wiring up Brogan’s house for super-net access and trying to get Windoze to work. Fun was had by all. Fortunately Tom didn’t break anything while wrestling Windoze into submission. I spent the day devouring a book as usual and surfing the web.

Saturday was much more fun. Tom and I got breakfast at a place called Brian’s. Brogan informed us it’s the local bear hang-out and I can totally see that from the clientele. Plus, the portions are huge! It was really cool to be surrounded by mostly same-sex couples. It’s unusual, outside of the Castro. As I sipped my coffee I wondered if they felt we were… imposing on their… space. Het-couple in a queer zone. I don’t usually feel this in queer bars… like the Cafe, or even the Lex. I felt it there. In times like these, I wish my orientation was tattoed on my forehead.

Or maybe I should tone the paranoia down a notch?

The drinking began around 2, with Des’s famous and utterly delicious Margaritas. They’re only served by the fishbowl and they’ll knock the most seasoned drinker on their ass. They are truly a wonder to behold. My whole not-drinking thing? Right out the window. Just the scent of this drink made my mouth water.

The debauchery continued with a delicious French Dinner, with the necessary rude Garcon followed by a couple of hours at Brogan’s favorite bar to go dancing. Gay bar of course. The queer scene in San Diego is not like San Francisco. Too many boys in baseball hats. It’s like they stepped out of Abercrombie and Fitch. And the girls (the one or two I saw) seemed firmly planted at the side of their gay friend. Nothing against fag hags (I have quite the dose of that myself), but where are the lesbians??

Today was a driving day. We went through Santa Barbara and ate at a cute little mostly-veggie cafe downtown. The drive was longer (10 hours including a 2 hour stop), but more lovely. Through mountains and past the ocean. It reminded me again how much I love California. All of it. The rolling hills that look like the curves of a woman’s body… the ocean glitering with promise. I think I’ll stay here. I am happy on this land.

And another plus… Brogan and Des’s dogs totally wore out our Beasts. They slept the whole way back. Dispite the missing chunks in both Luna and Cocoa. Liffy is not a dog to be trifled with.

Posted on November 30th, 2003 by Kat
Filed under: General