Golarz: What you're missing if you don't have gay friends
University housing assigned me to a room overlooking Third Street. In an earlier time, the building had been a women’s dorm. In my room I had a bed, desk, and lamp — spartan, but quite charming.
I had come for the summer to complete an advanced degree. Thirty of us filled the classroom wearing light clothing. It would be hot in this mature building without air conditioning. Then Dr. Borbley entered. He put his books on the desk.
“I feel generous so I’m giving you a choice," he announced. "You can leave right now and at semester’s end turn in an independent research paper consistent with the instructions I am now passing out, or you can meet with me every day for the next eight weeks in this converted boiler. Take a few minutes to decide.”
I remember being quite stunned. I wasn’t a kid. I had my undergraduate degree, had taught two years and had completed my military service in the Navy.
I looked around the room. Only one person on the other side seemed interested. He had an athletic look and could easily have passed as one of The Beach Boys.
I’m not sure which of us left our seats first, but it was close. No one else moved.
Once in the hallway he spoke first. “Beer?”
I replied, “Sounds good.”
Within minutes we were at Mother Bear’s having a brew, then two, three, and finally pizza. I was finding Peter was an easy guy to like. At evening’s end he said, “Ray, I’m watching a house for a professor on leave. On Friday, I’m throwing a party for some friends. Like you to come.”
On Friday, early evening, I was ringing the doorbell, bottle of wine in my left hand. Peter, in his beachwear attire and big smile, answered the door.
“Welcome Ray, let’s introduce you.”
It took only a moment for me to understand that I had entered a one-way street not going my way and must have appeared perplexed and disoriented. Peter sensed my quandary immediately and with a knowing smile responded magnificently.
He said, “Oh my God, you aren’t are you?”
I said, “Should I leave?”
Peter responded again with his magnificent smile and a deep laugh. “Are you kidding? Ray, you are going to be the joy of the evening."
The smiles throughout the room were broadening, interspersed with a couple of winks. Soon my entertaining entrance dissipated and flowed into a delightful evening. Oh, I got teased with a come-hither look or a wink, but I expected that. I hadn’t been to a gay party before and they were having fun with me.
Peter became a good friend that summer — a beer at Mother Bear's, handball at the HPER Building, some long talks. At summer’s end there was another house party. Not as fun for me, for I would be leaving soon and had made some friends.
Peter’s contacts became more infrequent over the next several years. Then through a mutual friend I was advised that he had become quite sick. So it was a trip to Bloomington and beers at Mother Bear's. I had planned to tell him that I had met “the” girl but the timing didn’t seem appropriate. His was the same full of life smile but everything else appeared so weak. He died soon after that, and I lost a cherished friend.
My sadness now is for those who have not had gay friends or known the gay community. If you haven’t been teased with a come-hither look or wink, you’ve missed a delightful moment. But mostly what you have missed is knowing one of the most gentle, open-minded and sensitive groups of human beings contained within God’s humanity.
Raymond Golarz has authored or co-authored 12 books. He has keynoted criminal justice or education conferences throughout the United States and Canada. His website is RayGolarz.com. He resides in Bloomington.
This article originally appeared on The Herald-Times: Columnist recalls his first 'gay' party and Peter, a wonderful friend
