I’m at Noce, behind the bar, end of night, things winding down, people closing tabs, saying their good-byes. Singer from Chicago. Phenomenal voice. You know what’s cool about jazz? The band and the singer had one quick rehearsal before the show. Can you imagine that? It’s completely different than any other music played. You meet up at the club, pass around some sheet music, let’s play this song, and this song, and then you play them. As a singer, you can tour around the world and have a different backing band every night, if you want.
There’s a couple stragglers, a musician and his girlfriend are sitting at the bar for a night cap. I overhear her say, my son’s gay. My ears perk-up. This could be interesting. I go over, get into the conversation.
How old’s your son? When did you find out?
She says, he’s 13. He told me at the grocery store. He was talking about a friend’s father, how he hates gay people, and then he says, he would hate me, because I’m gay.
I said, that’s so cool.
She says, he’s really open about it. Almost too open. He says, do you think this guy’s hot, mom? I think he’s hot.
You know, I’ve got two boys. I’m a pretty open minded guy. If either of my son’s turned out to be gay, that’d be fine. I could care a less. I just want them to be happy, find someone to love. I don’t think it’s really that big of a deal anymore. I have some neighbors that are gay across the street from me, and my son asked, are they roommates? And I said, they’re together. You know, two guys can love each other, just like a guy and a girl can.