Meet the Folkers

I just had to relate an experience I had yesterday. It's kind of along the fatherhood thread of discussion that's been going. My son is a graduating senior in high school this year. Last night, my partner and I went over to my son's girlfriends house to take the pre-prom pictures and meet her parents. My remaining male role in life is as public father to my son. He is fine with me, its just we haven't told his high school buddies. I will be coming out after this spring's graduation, so this is one of the last big, public rituals I need to do.

It was really weird. He is our youngest, so add to everything, the fact that this is the last time we will do this ritual before the nest is empty.

I felt like Nathan Lane in the Birdcage trying to act straight. From the manly handshake to mustering my best baritone to introduce myself by my old name, I've never felt so much like I was doing drag. I dressed as macho as I could muster, which isn't much. I did bind my breasts (if that isn't true love for my son, what is?) and wear a wool Pendleton lumberjack shirt. I took out my earrings and wore my highlighted hair in a pony tail...probably tied too high though, to contain my tapered bangs. Sitting (slouching?), legs, hand positioning, stifling the lift in my vocal expression all took conscious attention. My legs want to cross in a most unmanly way.

The upcoming graduation party itself should be interesting. My father will be here for my son's graduation. I'm out to dad but he hasn't met me, and, though I won't be wearing frocks, I won't be doing the drag king show I did last night. Hmmm...it promises to be very interesting...