I went away for three weeks. First stop - Palm Springs. My brother has a little investment property there and said that it would be good for me to get away from Toronto and the horrible humidity. Hang out by the pool and listen to the mockingbirds, watch the doves and the crows and admire the pool boy.
What a beautiful place. He has a cactus in his front yard that is ten feet tall and only two years old. Palm trees that surround the swimming pool. A dry heat - gosh, I could breathe. And my hair didn't get frizzy.
Anyway, on the day I arrived, one of our friends was also enroute from Toronto. His name is Francis Chalifour - he's only 31 and a reknowned writer. One of his books, "After" was up for the Governor General's Award in 2005. In Canada, that is huge. My brother and I have known Francis for many years and love him. Francis told my brother that he has met someone new - and will be bringing him to spend some time in Palm Springs with us. We're pretty sure he wants our opinion.
Well, sweet Francis shows up, and his friend arrives soon after. He's nice enough, this guy, 41-years old, good looking and the Vice-President of a school in Montreal. I'm thinking that Mark and Luc (Mark's husband and my brother-in-law - they've been legally married for over three years now and have been together for eleven) should cut this guy a break. Fine with me. I've already been through an earthquake and wind and fire and all I want to do is sleep.
The next morning I wake up and Mark and Luc are doing breakfast. I'm sitting by the pool when Francis and Charles walk out in their SPEEDOS. Now, I don't know about you, but gay or not, men are not attractive in those things. I think that after you hit twenty-five years old, well, hair is kind of climbing up backs and... it's just not pretty.
Thankfully, while I'm pondering this thought, Francis and Charles jump into the pool. They're swimming around, diving and stuff, and then they start chasing each other around, laughing hysterically.
"Trace!", says Charles, "come on in! It's fun! We're playing Penis Tag!"
I wag my poor head. "Sorry Charles", I say, "but it just wouldn't work. I don't have a penis."
"That's the whole beauty of it Trace! You can never be IT!"
xoxo