I have formed a new addiction. To my surprise, it is not eating salty treats or drinking large quantities of wine (OK...maybe once in a while). I have fallen in love with five gay men.
"Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" was a show where a group of gay men helped some non-gay man to clean up his act, helping with his appearance, his house, whatever. I barely watched once, although it was on for fifteen years, but it held no huge appeal. Then they revamped the show, renamed it "Queer Eye", and replaced those hosts with Bobby, Antoni, Jonathan, Tan, and Karamo and the show became something else. These five pop into the lives of everyday people (male and female) in various situations and Bobby redecorates their homes or church halls, or whatever they need rescued. Antoni introduces them to the joy of eating real and healthy and tasty food, and teaches them how to prepare it. Jonathan, with his long hair and high heels and occasional skirts or dresses, is the one who transforms their makeup, their hair, their vision of themselves. Tan has an amazing eye for fashion and helps them learn to dress in a way to make them feel fabulous. Karamo is the gentle life counselor who helps them to understand themselves. Every chance I get I park in front of Netflix for 45 minutes and watch an episode, or sometimes two. I think Himself is worried.
I've been wondering why, in the middle of this nightmare we're all going through, I would find such comfort in watching this program, which is so far removed from my experience. I think I've got it figured out. These men are so open and vulnerable, talented and giving. Yes, I would LOVE for them to come to Boston and do their magic with my cluttered closet and ready-for-replacement furniture. I would love to see what magic Jonathan could work with my gray (I mean "silver") hair.
But what I really find totally addictive is their complete lack of hatred. At this point I think I've seen them all cry.
Since gay life is controversial and not accepted by everyone, they have all faced discrimination, and in many cases, rejection by their families. They share that pain, but mostly they use it to be accepting and empathetic and gentle and non-judging, supportive and kind to everyone they encounter. And they do it with joy. They deal with rednecks in Georgia who have never met a gay person before. They transform the roly-poly grandma whose house looks as if it's been visited by Visigoths because she spends all her time helping others. Divorced fathers, struggling single mothers, you name it and they dive in with total acceptance. There is never an unkind word, never a condescending look of disapproval. They are unfailingly kind. This, to me, is their greatest gift.
In the desert which has become the human spirit during this time of anger and isolation, political unrest and pandemic, these gentlemen provide an oasis of love. They meet these people where they are and they see the humanity in each soul. They nurture the fading spark of self-love and self-respect and fan it until it blazes and ignites everything around it. I need these guys. If I can't hug my sons or invite my friends to dinner these days, I can at least invite these men into my home where they teach me every day how to be a good human being again, how to put down the fists of disagreement and open my heart to the invisible and often painful realities of other people's stories. They make me realize how horrible we can be to one another, but also what happens when we greet everyone with love and compassion.
So thank you, Bobby, Antoni, Jonathan, Tan, and Karamo. This is my love letter and thank you note to you all. You are, indeed, the "Fab Five"!
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