ceciliatan

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

PART SEVENTEEN: May 1991

Unlike the Costa Mesa amphitheater, Shoreline is huge. Seats close to twenty thousand. I overheard some venue people talking before soundcheck that they hadn’t been expecting a sellout the way initial ticket sales had gone, but that eventually it had picked up and they expected the last few would be gone by the time doors opened.

Carynne and Court were still along for the ride, though Court was headed back in the morning. Carynne was staying one more day to make sure I got where I was supposed to go, I think. I really wasn’t able to concentrate on much, feeling hyped up and both looking forward to the show and also to it being over.

While feeling hyper is probably not the best time for me to do an interview.

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

So, hit me over the head with a brick about it.

Somehow, despite ample evidence to the contrary, I was used to thinking of myself as the only gay person I knew. I in fact knew a ton of people–Ziggy, Colin, my own sister, Jonathan, Matthew, Sarah, maybe even Mills if she was right about him–but in my head queer people were still really few and far between.

I tried to work out the math. If you believe the one-in-ten estimate, well, that would mean ten percent, right? Pretty rare. And yet clearly way more then ten percent of the people I knew were not straight.

Well, I thought, maybe one-in-ten doesn’t take into account that the entertainment industry probably has a higher concentration of gay folks. And it also probably doesn’t count bisexual people properly in the first place.

Right? Did that mean my impression was less stupid? Probably not.