I had the day off today, so I could meet my aunt and uncle at the Frick Collection. I have been living close by, about five blocks away from it, for nine-plus years, and I hadn't yet been to it.
After paying our entry, it was decided we were all very hungry, so my aunt, uncle, and their friends, and we had a nice greasy lunch at Soupburg on Madison and 73rd Street. We then went to the Frick Collection, and I was really just blown away by all that collected beauty. Mr. Frick wanted to be surrounded by paintings, sculptures, and furnishings that were pleasant to live with, and he also built this house, on Fifth Avenue at 70th Street, to also be a museum after his family was done living there. Other architects later created a little oasis by enclosing a garden, complete with a fountain pool. It's like being at a British country estate, but in the middle of Manhattan. Much more secluded and quiet than the Pierpont Morgan Library. I recommend it to everyone.
My aunt and uncle and I went out to Long Island for a big fat family dinner. En route, my aunt read my story in LGNY about the HRC visit to New York. She read the story and her immediate reaction was, "Should I be sending them money anymore?" Even people from Seattle are appalled by former Senator Al D'Amato. Everyone's told me how even-handed my story about the HRC was, but I think the facts speak for themselves sometimes, when this sort of conclusion is drawn.
My aunt is a dyke-by-proxy. She wears pink triangles and red ribbons, and she frequents gay bookstores. She has a Rainbow Pride credit card. This is because my aunt is very involved in PFLAG, as my cousin Janet is a big lesbian. (Just like I am a big fag.) So she is very much in our camp. Maybe too much? Is that possible? Well, she's an activist too. She is very involved in her Seattle-suburb community's doings.
Having an aunt like her helps make a family an oasis sometimes. Until she questions me about my lovelife at the table in front of everyone.
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