I keep thinking of the scene in the excellent film “Serpico” with a young Al Pacino, when he is in the station house, talking to one of his colleagues about how he (Frank Serpico) has started learning ballet. The fellow officer is extremely suspicious about and feels that Serpico is a homosexual. Serpico doesn’t care at all about this and actually pretty much taunts him in the tete-a-tete which is quite amusing as he eventually bounds away with some ballet moves. Recall growing up as a kid in the 1960s how male ballet dancers were actually in better physical shape than say hockey players and this seemed incredible news to us! It was right up there with the fact that the average 60 year old Scandinavian was in better shape than the average adult north american. The equation was quite simple and moronic: male ballet dancer = fag. Yes I cannot wait to return to the homophobia of my youth.
Fast forward decades and I recall some offhand comment about how (some) women like ballet because they can check out the guys in their skin tight costumes. Then as noted watching ballet via you tube I saw that yes you could see how muscular either gender is given their tights. Big deal. For decades or really all of my adulthood I was hung up on what it meant to be male, masculine, a man and the elusive quest for male energy. Certainly found it interesting, a different slant that for some-many cultures (and eras of history) the masculine-feminine divide in terms of sexuality was about who was doing the inserting-penetrating and who was reciving/being penetrated. Pondering that for a moment made me realize how contrived, artificial, these labels are that we copperfasten onto and hold as shibboleths.
Like the image below because it blurs, obfuscates the M-F thing going on to a degree.
Today’s thought experiment, quiz, question of the day is this: suppose you were a dance teacher (either gender and it doesn’t matter LGBT or straight) and your lover is a very good dancer also who shares your passion for dancing, what would you rather do with that person, go out dancing or stay home and make love? It is not a trick question nor does it have a trillion conditions attached to it. What is your pleasure? Serpico has a scene early on with a man arrested as part of a gang rape that I always remembered. The assailant was worked over, err beat up by the cops at the station house the previous night and he asks Serpico “why didn’t you stay for the fun?” and he responds; “that’s not my idea of fun.”
What’s your idea of fun?