Slightly Off the Mark: science fiction

Showing posts with label science fiction. Show all posts

Barry Manilow and Gay Icebergs

Am I qualified to talk about gayism? I am not. For instance, I just used the term “gayism”, which so far as I know doesn’t exist. Hm. Just a sec, Google and I have a date …

I’ll be darned. That word does exist. It seems I’ve danced out onto thin ice already, so what the heck: I’ll strap on some skates. People speak about issues they aren’t qualified to all the time. I once heard a member of Congress use the words “fiscal responsibility”. Sure, they looked very confused, but they said it.

This might be a shock to my gay friends (I probably have more than I realize), but I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about sexual orientation. What got me thinking about it a few years ago was the revelation that singer Barry Manilow is gay. This announcement was met with a communal yawn, followed by, “Just figured that out, did ya?”

Manilow married his manager, who is a guy, and who Manilow had a very close personal relationship with for three decades. It must be convenient, being able to hold work meetings in the Jacuzzi.

I live in a conservative area, so I was interested in what my friends and coworkers would have to say about it. The general consensus: “So?” Nobody cared, except for the occasional “If they’re happy, good for them”. Most average Joes really don’t care about your sexuality, as long as you’re a good neighbor. The people on both sides who have more hard line views are just louder, that's all.

I’m just the straight messenger, people.

(Oh, fun fact I just found out: The word "heterosexual", which many think of as normal, comes from the Greek term "hetero", which means ... different. "Cis", a word for being attracted to the opposite sex, comes from the Latin word cissexual, which means "on the same side of".)

Yes, I'm a friend of Dorothy, even when she's behaving badly.

Anyway, I’d rather not debate anything related to this other than Barry Manilow’s most awesome song. I love Barry Manilow (in an entertainment kind of a way), and I’m not afraid of telling anyone, but please don’t tell anyone.

I love his ballads. I love his energy, and one of my favorite albums (8-track!) as a teen was his amazing live album. I even love his medley of the commercial jingles he wrote.

By the way, I’m straight, even though my wife will tell you I’m sometimes a girl. Also, I love Boston and ZZ Top, and they’re not gay. They’re not, are they?

Yes, I heard rumors Manilow was gay. I wasn’t dating him, just listening to his music. You can question my taste, but sexuality doesn’t matter unless you’re picking out the right pickup bar.

One of my friends in high school was rumored to be gay. He had the stereotypical mannerisms, and you know how people make assumptions. I defended him, because you can’t tell what a person’s like on the inside based on his outsides. Besides, he and I were both in choir and drama club, and if that made him gay, then why did I only go to ball games for the cheerleaders? So there.

Turns out he’s gay.

How do I feel about him now? The same. I mean, he never hit on me, what do I care? And if he had hit on me back then, being the terminally depressed kid I was, I would probably have been more flattered than offended.

Let’s get back to my point, which … let’s see … oh, yeah. I suspect prejudice will end when we stress individuals, rather than color, sex, sexuality, or clothing, although some people wear some really dumb clothes, and can we at least judge them? Those things will always be there, but the world will be a better place if we don’t dwell on them. Are you gay? Are you straight? What do I care? I’m married.

So I came up with an idea—and I’ll admit I originally formed it several years ago. I’ve written a novel, a science fiction space opera. (And I'm still trying to sell it to a publisher, but never mind.)

Would you serve on a starship with this man? Me, too.

Now, I spend a large amount of time creating and assembling backgrounds of my characters. It creates a more rounded, fully realized character when you know about their icebergs: The stuff about them underneath, that you never read about in the actual story.

No literal iceberg involved. Keep up.

So I know their favorite foods, colors, and animals, childhood traumas, hobbies, vacation spots, whatever. For this SF story, I created a supporting character who’s gay.

No, I’m not going to tell you who that character is. I doubt you’ll figure it out, because it has nothing to do with the story. That’s the point. It's not a love story about that character. It’s just a part of who they are, and it has nothing to do with their actions or the plot.

See, that’s the way it should be in real life.

They might not even like Barry Manilow music.

You can find us and our books, which have nothing to do with sexual orientation, here:

· Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

· Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/search?attributes.contributorId=13727646

· Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

· Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

· Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

· Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

· Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

· Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

· Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

· Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

· Substack: https://substack.com/@markrhunter

· Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

· Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

Remember: Reading opens the mind.

Moonshots and Butter Brickle

If you asked me as a kid what I wanted to do when I grew up, I had an immediate answer. No hemming and hawing between plumber and proctologist, no sir. It had been clear since I watched the first Apollo Moon landing at 9 years old, on a black and white console TV:

I was going to be science officer on a starship.

Yes, I was aware the position didn't actually exist at the time, but we'd just landed on the moon! By the time I entered high school we'd have a city on Mars, and by the time I graduated college I'd be shipping out to explore the galaxy. I already had a blue sweatshirt with a logo on it, and a Spock haircut.

It wasn't the same logo, but what the heck; and as long as I kept that haircut, I wouldn't have to worry about interested girls distracting me.

Which is why I gave up the haircut in middle school, but never mind.

Back then it seemed obvious our future was in space. Why? Well, the example of Europeans continuing to explore the Americas after Columbus (or the Vikings) is problematic--although if they hadn't, I wouldn't be here. Still, the Native Americans themselves once followed the path of exploration:

"What's over that next hill?"

"Food, maybe? I see there's a glacier coming up behind us, so maybe we should check it out."

By high school manned space exploration seemed a thing of the past, but I was still optimistic of humanity's future in space. I signed up for every science class my school offered, starting my freshman year with what was called General Science. I excelled, earning an A+ and a certificate of merit. I wanted to take Physical Science next, but the only opening on my sophomore schedule was Chemistry.

My science teacher cautioned me that maybe I shouldn't jump ahead so fast. I ignored him. My science teacher was very smart. I wasn't.

As a kid I had every Apollo related toy, including this one.

Because, you see, going into space takes math. Lots of math. Taking Intro to Algebra in my freshman year taught me my proficiency in math was, well, not proficient. In fact, I stunk at it. But what the heck, science isn't all about math. How much math could there possibly be in chemistry?

And that's how I learned I would never be a science officer.

Science is cool, it really is. It's just that some people can do science, and some people are better off watching other people do science. Now we have Artemis returning to the Moon, several decades too late even if I was good at science. With my prostate, I'm better off not being in a place where peeing is a challenge, anyway.

(No, I'm not going to debate anyone with the idiotic idea that the Apollo missions were faked. That myth has been busted over and over, and I spend most of my time on social media trying to avoid stupid arguments.)

This, by the way, is an anime character named Artemis. My household was nuts for Sailor Moon.

But should we go back to the Moon, with all the expense, with so many problems on Earth? I mean, we've been there. Once we invented chocolate ice cream, was there any point in inventing Butter Brickle?

Maybe that's a bad comparison: I hate Butter Brickle. But humanity is never going to be wiped out by a five mile wide scoop of frozen Butter Brickle, or for that matter a super volcano made of cheese, which would at least smell good for an instant before our nose hairs burned. The technology used for Butter Brickle isn't likely to bring great new inventions and products to the masses. Also, to be honest, there's no joy of discovery from exploring Butter Brickle, unless it's your first birthday party.

So I'm going to say yes, it is worth the risk and expense to explore space. Not just for the science and economic benefits, but also for the pure joy of discovering things. We could easily find the money by zapping government waste with a big Butter Brickle colored space laser.

After all, how do we know there's not some new kind of chocolate out there?

Our books don’t involve space travel—yet. But there’s bound to be something for everyone else.