M&Ms (&M)

This entry is not about candy.

The other day, during his lunch break, my father went out for a ride on a tandem with his new lesbian co-worker. It's been fairly obvious that Dad has a gay co-worker, because he has brought up gay issues consistently during every recent conversation we have shared (except for the call where he tried to explain to me why nose-picking isn't ok in public. "Gentzy, it's like sex. We all enjoy sex, but you can't do it in public." Right, Dad...it's JUST like that.). This is classic A. Gentz Franz. He is SO open-minded and accepting that all he needs is a little exposure to something/someone and he is sold. I remember having a friend in junior high school who was a little untrustworthy. My parents (Dad mostly) expressed a slight objection to my socializing with this particular friend...until I had that friend over to the house. By the end of the visit, my dad had made up a nickname for him and was ready to have him marry one of my sisters.

This is not to say that my Dad was anti-gay before his interactions with this co-worker, it's just been an interesting time for all of us practicing Mormons and gay rights. The Church took a very strong stand that was hard for many of us to understand. We've been forced to think about the issue (which is good), but it was confusing for many to think about what to do with the issue. Some people jumped in line and supported the Church, while others walked the tight rope of "faithful Mormon and gay rights supporter." Those are of course only two reactions among myriad reactions to what has become a painful and divisive issue for many of our faith. Not to speak for Dad, but I'd explain his discomfort as a result of his intense love for the Church and his superordinate love for people...all people. Anyway...back to the tandem.

At some point after the tandem ride during lunch, this co-worker approaches Dad and tells him that "it would never work out between us because of the 3 Ms." My father, taken aback slightly, asks, "what are the 3Ms?" To which she responds, "Mormon, Male, and Married." When this was being related to me over the phone, at this point my mother yells out, "Can you believe this?" in a somewhat threatened way (as if Dad were being propositioned). Mom, no need to worry...the 3Ms pretty much define Dad. Getting one of those Ms out of him is not going to happen. You're safe.

This story sums up my Dad (kids, your Cakoo Papa). I've heard my father speak Ebonics, southern, sign language, and redneck (separate occasions). In those moments, he was black, southern, deaf, and a hick. NOW, he is a lesbian. Pleasers the world over salute you. If you ask me, this is a wonderful example of how my dad has made sense of the tension that frequently occurs within the mind and heart of many a person who actively practices a religion. This woman feels loved and accepted by someone who looks like the people who so frequently reject her. But my dad jumped on a tandem with her.

Religion is not enough of a reason for Dad not to love her. Indeed, as Dad views his religion (correctly, I might assert), his religion demands that he love her. Ironically, religion was 1/3 of the reason she cannot love him. Fair enough. I really don't think our family can take the whole, "Dad's leaving Mom for another woman...whom he converted to Mormonism and heterosexuality." We'll take the M&M&Ms.