tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12596260.post7063497323864439353..comments2023-10-23T12:25:03.006-04:00Comments on Ramblin' with Roger: LINKORAMA: Roger (Finally) Answers Your Question, GregRoger Owen Greenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298172138307632062noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12596260.post-82430921568777719852007-04-05T11:27:00.000-04:002007-04-05T11:27:00.000-04:00Roger-We were in Midtown Manhattan this weekend, n...Roger-<BR/><BR/>We were in Midtown Manhattan this weekend, navigating through wall to wall people on 42nd Street. No one nods or even looks at another person for more than a blink. the crowds are so dense that to even acknowledge another person causes too many complications. Now, Lynne was wearing her trademark short skirt and "outrageous stockings," in this case black fishnets over bright red tights. Very cute! As we were walking, we passed a few other women who were also wearing short skirts and outrageous stockings. Each of these women smiled at Lynne and nodded.<BR/><BR/>25 to 30 years ago I lived in downtown San Francisco, where almost every male was gay. I became familiar with the three other straight guys in the neighborhood, guys I normally wouldn't have any association with. One was a preppy fellow from Boston, one was a southern redneck with five german shepherds and a drinking problem, the other was a big ex-boxer with a deformed face. And me, whatever I am. The four of us would sometimes hang in a group chatting about nothing. I guess we were reassuring ourselves that it was OK to not be gay.<BR/><BR/>Y'know, whether it is "sharing the same thing" or "being the different other" seems to me to be of secondary importance. The main thing is shared identity.<BR/><BR/>-Dan VRAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12596260.post-24819327526218742402007-04-03T10:15:00.000-04:002007-04-03T10:15:00.000-04:00Where you live has something to do with it too. Ar...Where you live has something to do with it too. Around here (Oklahoma) almost everyone acts like they know each other. If we pass someone on the street (or in a store or whereever) and they don't smile or nod we tend to think, "What's wrong with that guy?" or "What's her problem?" though the "rules" vary depending on where you are, exactly. The bigger the crowd the less obligation you have to acknowledge strangers.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12596260.post-46200712988027741622007-03-30T23:45:00.000-04:002007-03-30T23:45:00.000-04:00Thanks for the insight. As a white straight middl...Thanks for the insight. As a white straight middle-class man, I have very little experience with being the "other" - I can't ever recall being the "other," even though I was geeky in high school. I thought it had something to do with that, but it's interesting to consider it goes beyond race. It's actually somewhat heartening to know that all sorts of things link us.<BR/><BR/>I call everyone "sir," by the way, even my good friends when I talk to them again after a long while. So it's nothing to do with you being older than I am. I just like calling people "sir."Greghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13481137891542684401noreply@blogger.com