NONFICTION -
    With the Theme of Making or Breaking Bread

"My father loved to make holiday meals
and one of his favorites was Pasta Calamari, "
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                                Photo by Weebly.com                                    

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Christmas 1969
by  Richard Marino

​Christmas is always an extravagant time and a stressful one for all. In 1969 I did not feel entirely that way. There was stress brought on by wanting to stay straight in my parent’s eyes. However, I was feeling like a happy teenager, looking forward to the big dinners and holiday cheer the family had. This helped my ego and demeanor.
 
I dressed up our fake Christmas tree with the old ornaments that my folks had acquired over the years. We always bought a box of new ones to add to the old, with plenty of tinsel and garlands. I was glad they let me dress it up since it made me feel important. It added to the feeling that all was well.
 
I did sense that my folks were concerned about me going out a lot, but my older brother did the same until he met Gail, his girlfriend. They met Jeff and Fred, two high school chums of mine, and seemed happy with my choice of friends. They did not know that they were gay. My scores in school had improved so I was looking pretty good.
 
Christmas brought out the best in my dad. My father loved to make holiday meals and one of his favorites was Pasta Calamari, a popular Italian Christmas Eve dish. He made his special sauce for it that included wine and Campari tomatoes and chili peppers for his Calabrian Marinara. Dad soaked the calamari to get out the ink. Then he also made another plain sauce with fresh peas and added the linguine. He was happy in the kitchen and lost any gruff behavior.
 
He also made a Baccala (Italian fish stew). My Mom and I found the cod a little salty, so we stayed with the calamari and not the spicy one. There was always plenty of food on the table.
 
Uncle Jessie and Aunt Nancy joined us. I always enjoyed their company and so did my brother John who now had a steady girl who was there too. My Uncle Jessie always made me feel that I was special, in a good way. Maybe older than my years.
 
He included me in the conversation, when my folks felt I was not “old” enough to participate in, like family matters or politics. I liked him and respected him.
 
Grandma was feeling ill, so she stayed at home. She made Petrali, a traditional Christmas pastry filled with figs and almonds, that Uncle Jessie brought over. 

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All seemed well until my Aunt Nancy mentioned that on ABC News, gay men were interviewed after a demonstration, and they expressed their concerns and needs. This was something that had not happened before.
 
My folks were surprised and felt that this was unthinkable.
 
My aunt added, “That it was a big shame that people are that way.”
 
My mom agreed: “Nancy, they were actually on TV,” said my mom.
 
My aunt responded, “I was in shock, Rose: Can you imagine.”
 
“It really is a shame that they gave them time to speak,” my dad added.
 
“Those guys just don’t belong,” said Uncle Jesse.
 
I was stunned and aware of my space. I felt I should not say anything, just in case it sounded like I knew something. Afterall, I had been to two gay liberation dances and met some gay activists, including Mark Segal who was there the night of Stonewall. I was glad that it was a private “small world” for me: Only I knew that I was gay.
 
It was somewhat scary. Do not say anything that might be a reveal, was in my head and my lips were sealed.
 
I was remembering the day I came out and that special feeling of “knowing something” about me. I also remember feeling the “what if dread,” that the folks could know about me.
 
Luckily that conversation was cut short by my brother’s announcement that he and Gail were engaged. This led the talk to congratulations and “Isn’t that wonderful.” The straight life was the norm. Saved by Society!
 
This was family and I was still a part of it all. We were happy and I felt that if this continued, I would be passing and I could have my cake and candles too, as long as,
 
They do not find me out!

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​Richard Marino has lived in San Francisco since 1983. He moved to San Francisco from New York where he lived in the East Village. He has worked in the San Francisco Public Library (Main) for the past 28 years. He has been with the Gay Gray Writers since its inception in 2014. He joined the queer elders’ group four years ago which led to their having writings published in a one-time journal in November 2019. His pieces tend to be memoir, and he has written many of them. This opportunity with OLLI is an incredible blessing to him and he would like to participate in the future.

Other works in this issue:
Nonfiction:
​First Apartment!
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