Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Yes, dad, she is.

Whereas my mom goes dancing every week, offers to lend me her books on dirty talk and openly prefers men on motorcycles, my father is roughly a New England version of Hank Hill who likes skiing instead of hunting and appraises houses instead of selling propane, but still has that small-town good-dad sensibility to him. Case in point: tongiht I was invited to join him and his ladyfriend (definitely a Peggy Hill, but less feminist- FYI, I adore Kathy Najimy) at a historical society presentation to watch an hour-long slideshow about, I kid you not, the history of main street. I'm open-minded and everything, but I have to draw the line somewhere.

Anyway, I being my mother's daughter, I enjoy testing his limits occasionally. He's not a racist homophobe in the slightest, but he does refer to his ladyfriend as "domesticated". In his company, I've enjoyed explicit CDs (the less offensive eliciting "what-is-this-junk"s, Blink-182's "Family Reunion" met only with uncomfortable silence from the both of us), Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle (my brother informed me that he was pulled aside and asked, "how could you let your sister watch that trash?" to which my brother proudly replied, "dad, shut the fuck up"), Project Runway ("Keep it on, I want to see that gay guy cry", in reference to Austin), and To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar. Though, that last one is actually intended to be Staight Man's Intro to Crossdressing.

Tonight, before pancakes for dinner, I sat down and flipped channels, eventually landing on my girl Alexis Arquette. I decided to watch for a while and gauge the reaction.
"That woman has a deep voice." Dad points out. "Is it a female impersonator?"
"Um, well, that's Alexis Arquette. She's transexual. David Arquette's sister?"
"Oh. That name sounds familiar, David Arquette."
"Yeah, he's married to Courtney Cox. He was in Scream."
"I don't know. Hmm. So, he was his brother, and now he's his sister?"
"Yep."
"Oh." A pause, he raises his eyebrows. I'm expecting either the familiar sound of uncomfortable silence, or a mumbled weird! Instead:
"She's a pretty good-looking woman, huh?"

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Interesting... my roommates, who usually say they're tolerant (as opposed to ignorant?) continuously remark about how ugly she is- but instead of saying ugly, they say, "Ug, she looks like a man!" Frankly, I think she looks great, and has supercool clothes. Perhaps my roommates feel intimidated by her awesome power? I think so.