In those places you probably didn't have to walk farther than a few blocks to enjoy a cup of joe at a gay coffeehouse or bookstore. And finding a gay bar was almost as easy as finding the local Gap. You've landed with a thud in a place that's known more for its wealth and corporate residents than for its fondness for Judy Garland. And even your little dog thinks that everyone's a little witchy. Fairfield County is a queer dichotomy.
Most people mind their own business and leave the next guy alone.
Since I make a living expressing myself, I'm not always very good at minding my own business. Yet, for the most part, me and my big mouth have been well received. Guys like him, I'm happy to say, are few and far between, and are in no way a reflection of the county as a whole. He and his narrow mind are now constantly being challenged, not only by people like me, but by family members, friends, coworkers, TV, and even local corporations making powerful statements by offering partnership benefits or refusing to sponsor Dr. Laura Schlessinger's radio and television programs. Others who have lived here all of their lives have cable TV and VCRs and know that Boys Don't Cry is a horrid reality reserved for people with small minds who live far away from here, perhaps in states ending in vowels.