More Sandwich Talk

I left home (more like house) and dropped out of high school when I was 16 and had my son when I was 17.  I kept my pregnancy a secret from my parents until I was around 5 months pregnant.  An anonymous ‘friend’ tipped them off and they popped over for a surprise visit on an early Sunday morning; making their entrance before I had time to throw on the standard hide my belly layers of baggy clothing.  They took me out so we could talk, which mostly consisted of, “What were you thinking!?!?” and my mom crying a lot.  We stopped off at a clothing store and my mom purchased a few maternity items for me.  After leaving the store, while riding in the backseat of their car my dad looked in the rear view mirror, caught my eyes and told me I had made, “…the biggest mistake of my life.”  That moment exploded inside of me and instinctually I felt defensive.  My circumstances were far from ideal, but no child is a mistake. I was relieved when they dropped me off at my dive apartment and I returned my focus to the thing that mattered most at the time: praying to God the child got my nose instead of his dad’s.  Ok, really, I prayed for the basics: health and means to provide for him.  Not once did sexuality cross my mind.  I’m not sure many mothers include ‘please give me a heterosexual baby' on their priority list.  There’s a reason for that: it’s not important.         

I’m spending some time talking about my own upbringing, because it contributed to my belief systems.  How I raise my son will cycle into how he raises his own children and so forth.  I suppose it’s a matter of sandwich making, once again.  Some use, add or take away ingredients based on their own preferences and though it’s still a sandwich, the outcome can be either fabulous or horrendous.  I cannot stand thoughtless sandwiches.  Sandwich making 101: Do not place tomato on the lettuce.  This creates a disastrous banana peel moment where the entire sandwich slips apart due to poor ingredient stacking.  Parenting  101: Do not stack unconditional love with conditions.  Please reference tomato and lettuce stacking for the outcome.  I suspected my son could be gay from a fairly early age, because of this I always emphasized the meaning of unconditional love and reassured him nothing could make that waiver.  I was preparing him for coming out.  Disclaimer- I have a feeling I’m making this sound very easy.  It’s not.  I relied heavily on my primal instinct to nurture and threw a ton of private temper tantrums.     

The Sandwich

Why a sandwich?  Who doesn’t like a good, well thought out sandwich?  Celebrities have sandwiches; their name alone adds to the zeal of experiencing a dazzling taste journey.  Manhattan’s Carnegie Deli offers the Woody Allen: pastrami and corned beef stacked on rye.  Not surprised The Woody is short on toppings, but for that very reason I’m staying away.  Go to Redwood City, CA and stop at the Heimerhaus Deli for a taste of Hugh Hefner (this already sounds somewhat displeasing).  The Hef is white bread and bunny.  Eat up.  Ok, not really, skip the bunny, add turkey, ham, chutney and pepper jack and you have The Hef.  I might go for that one, but what in the world is a LGBT?  In support of the LGBT cause, I decided they too deserve a sandwich and it already has a sort of sandwichy ring to it.  I tried this once about a month ago and am still trying to perfect the combination of ingredients.  We did lettuce, guacamole, bacon and tomato and it was decent, but I’m still looking for that wowza!  combination.  Rainbow colors welcome. 

I just did a quick search and it turns out I’m not the only one making a LGBT sandwich.  Damn!  Why are my inventions always 5 years too late?  Equally shattering, my son told me my rainbow flag image is both common and cliché.  Ouch.  I loathe cliché's, but common is exactly what I'm after.