Out of the Frying Pan of a Closet and Into the Fire: Bobby Flay Made My Cousin Gay!*

Without naming him, I wrote of my cousin Richard few years ago. He's a cousin on my dad's side -- the side of the family with whom I do not have especially close ties. Actually, that's not entirely true. I do have especially close ties with by dad's brother Steve and with his family, and I have, at the very least, close ties to my Uncle Michael's and his family, and to my Aunt Cristelle and her family. It can even be said that I at least have ties to my aunts Marie-Therese, Elyse, and Claudine, and to their families. To my dad's remaining three siblings and their spouses and offspring, however, I am persona non grata, which is more than OK with me.  I am perfectly happy to have my very existence denied by these people. 

I hold a very special place of antipathy in the hearts of my  Aunt Angelie and her spouse and progeny for good reasons which have been discussed elsewhere in my blog without giving names. In an infamous incident, my well-being was placed in jeopardy, which resulted in the unity of their nuclear family being likewise placed in jeopardy. Alas, all's well that ends well, at least for me. I cannot speak to the wellness of the unity or of anything else pertaining to their family.

When Aunt Angelie's son Richard returned from his  mission a couple of years ago,  the transition from living the uber-regimented life  of an LDS missionary to the life of relative freedom of civilian life was fraught with peril. One would need to qualify the term freedom as it pertains to the lives of the offspring of my Aunt Angelie and her husband, as the only child of their to have experienced bona fide freedom was their son Josh, who was literally disowned by them for having failed to remain on his LDS mission when he suffered a life-threatening intestinal ailment. 

Still, the metamorphosis from life as a twin automaton salesman for LDS, Inc., to  life as a soldier in God's army serving under my drill sergeant aunt was jarring to Richard even by the most conservative of estimates. Family members did not, at the time, grasp the magnitude of the issues with which Richard was wrestling. We were led to believe that he suffered with a mere lack of direction in his life which compelled him to spend hours at a time in front of the family's living room television, thoroughly engaged with Food Network programming. Richard's fascination with all things related to Bobby Flay did not escape the attention of his mother, who honestly believed she could change her son's true nature to what it should have been according to LDS teachings by the simple act of cancelling her family's cable TV connection.

Alas, in real life, true love, even when unrequited, is not so easily circumnavigated. Richard enrolled in one of the church's universities, where, once again, he had access to cable television and to the Food Network. Not only did he reconnect (albeit with a one-way connection) with Bobby Flay;  he found a kindred spirit in his Food Network addiction: one whose connection was not limited to mutual passion for food, but to mutual passion for each other.  The close encounter was, to the consternation of his parents, not of the heterosexual kind.

Richard is no longer enrolled in The Lord's University, nor is he, at least as far as she is concerned, enrolled in Aunt Angelie's family. Of course my parents (meaning, of course, my mother; even my dad would have had the common sense not to have touched this situation with the proverbial ten-foot pole) almost immediate involved themselves in the drama. They have offered to fund Richard's education on the condition that he take the remainder of this academic year off and work at any job he can find (they will supplement his earnings to help him meet his living expenses if necessary and will fund his health insurance for the remainder of this academic year) and give himself the better part of a year to get his head on straight (with straight not equating with heterosexual in this sense) so that he will be prepared to focus on his education when he returns to university.  Richard essentially tanked a year's education, so this request from my parents was not an altogether unreasonable one.

If the family rumor mill is to be taken seriously,  my aunt plans to sue the Food Network and the celebrity chef himself on the grounds that Bobby Flay made her son gay. Good luck with that one, Aunt Angelie.

Any way I look at it, it would seem to be a step in the direction of mental health that the current object of my cousin's affection is a person with whom he interacts in the flesh as opposed to one whose daily TV appearances dictated the schedule of his life.

* I'm being ironic. i'm not REALLY accusing you of causing my cousin to have become gay. Please don't sue me, Bobby Flay.

Bobby Flay Made My Cousin Gay

My cousin sees something in Bobby Flay that I don't.

Note: Thanks to Donna for the inspiration.

I have a cousin who shall be referred to in this blog as Nathan. His mother, who is my father's sister and therefore my aunt, shall be called Therese. The names have been changed in this blog to protect both the innocent and guilty. I'll leave it to the reader to determine exactly whom falls into which category.

Nathan, bless is soul, has been gay probably since before his forced exit from the womb. (He was twelve days overdue, and labor induction was unsuccessful, so he was delivered via Caesarean section. I don't think that's particularly relevant, though my Aunt Celeste -- strongly devoted both to anti-Caesarean and anti-gay movements --would tell you otherwise.) I've known Nathan was gay since long before I even knew there was such a thing as gay. When I first heard of the concept of homosexuality, Nathan was my personification for the condition, as in, "Oh! Like Nathan!"

In the unenlightened 1990's when he was growing up, a great deal of murmuring was heard among family members regarding Nathan's rather effeminate nature. Even in the dark ages, my own parents were relatively open to the idea of one's sexuality not being a matter of choice. Still, the degree to which Nathan pinged bothered my dad a bit.  "It's not so much that he carries a purse,"  my dad would say. (Several of my mom's cast-off purses were in my stash of dress-up clothing.) "It's how he carries the purse."  My dad said he didn't really care about anyone's sexuality as long as whatever happened did so behind closed doors. Still, Nathan's overly effeminate demeanor made him a bit uncomfortable, or at least pretending not to notice it bothered my dad. He said numerous times that being around Nathan with the rest of the family and pretending there was nothing about Nathan to bother the LDS segment of the family  My dad described witnessing the young Nathan dressing in drag and painting his nails in front of the family as like being in a room with a giant flamingo and pretending not to notice it.

Nathan loved trying on the formal gowns from my mom's high school years, and only wore heels that matched, usually consulting with my mom to ensure he'd made the best choice. He was quick to criticize my shoe selection in my dress-up kit, and complained that his mommy's shoes were much prettier. (In retrospect, that's probably where all the family's money went. Nathan's father was an MD and presumably brought in a decent salary, but  parents have hit my parents up for help with mortgage payments or other expenses several time throughout the year.) Nathan likewise disparaged  my nail polish and lipstick selections as well selection. All I ever had as a kid had was what my mom threw out.  She's never been into upscale beauty products, probably because she doesn't need all that much in order to look nice. She's naturally pretty. She probably buys her makeup from Walgreen's.

Anyway, Nathan's interests were never typical for a boy his age, not that there's anything wrong with a boy not being interested in sports, outdoor pursuits, model airplanes, chemistry or anything else along those lines. My earliest recollection of Nathan would have been when I was two and he was five. He and I were both in attendance at a family reunion in some LDS-owned luxury cabin somewhere in Utah.
He brought with him in a duffel bag his rather extensive collection of Beanie Babies, and warned all the other children not to touch them.  I was a rather oppositional child, and took his warning as an invitation to grab the elephant Beanie Baby and run as fast as I could with it. Instead of chasing me, Nathan let loose with a high-pitched shriek that got the attention of everyone, including the security personnel who patrolled the property 24/7. My dad chased me down, which was a good thing, as once he finished his shriek, Nathan took a deep gulp of air, then held his breath until Peanut the Elephant was returned to him.  Therese gave me a look that would have sent me six feet under if looks could actually accomplish such a thing. She still hates me to this day, and I suspect my theft of Peanut the Elephant is the main reason, as the two of us have had little direct contact since that time.

Anyway, at some point right after he returned home from his LDS mission a year or so ago, Nathan became interested in food, or at least in the Food Network. He had finished his mission mid-semester so was not enrolled in any college courses. He essentially commandeered the family room television and watched Food Network programming nonstop during all of his waking hours. He periodically attempted to recreate a culinary masterpiece he saw while watching, but mostly he just watched. And drooled.  Bobby flay became a particular favorite, though he also watched anything he could find with either Tyler Florence or Giada de Lorentis.

Aunt Therese eventually noticed her son's fixation with the Food Network and, through some epiphany, noticed for the first time her son's effeminacy.  Therese considered it very much a cause/effect scenario. Watching Food Network programming had made her son effeminate, Therese said, ignoring twenty-one years of feminine behavior on Nathan's part. Therese immediately called my mother, who is a licensed clinical psychologist. That faction of the family seriously believes that if a person shows homosexual tendencies, consultation with a psychiatrist is in order.

My mother said she tried to be gentle in speaking with my aunt. She told my aunt that Nathan is who he is and that watching the Food network would not cause him to be a homosexual if he were not already one. This came as a relief to Therese, who assumed my mother meant Nathan couldn't possibly be gay, which she never said and certainly didn't mean to imply. My mom told Therese that it seemed as though Nathan was replacing one addiction -- his mission (or something or someone from his mission, though my mother didn't specify this) -- with another addiction, which was the Food Network. My mother's concern was not that Nathan was watching the Food Network, but that he had so much time on his hands that he could spend every waking hour watching the Food Network. My mom recommended to Therese that she insist that Nathan either get a job or do volunteer work.

Therese didn't follow my mom's advice. Instead, she called her cable provider and had all cooking channels blocked. Nathan still watches on his computer, but his mother doesn't know about it, which is a good thing, as Therese probably considers it pornography. Nathan is now carrying fifteen units at BYU, but he still finds time to feed his Bobby Flay addiction.