An odd thing happened, occasioned by my purchase of a house here in Culo del Pecos, which needs some attention. The underlying skeleton is very fine; the room layout good; the construction good. Some things need to be done, though; that's where all the avocado and burnt orange went to die. I am told that they're coming in again, to which my response is, "Your point?"

I was talking to Carl, the local plumber. Our families go back a way and he is a curmudgeon who makes me look like Mary Poppins. I promise that I do not traffic in being gay but there is a reason for being public, to put a face on it, and so I let it be known with something much less than an announcement, and I could see a slight shock of reappraisal in his eyes, which is just what I'm aiming for, and at the right level too. How was he to re-evaluate me? His sister, older by a decade, and I have been friends since the 7th grade. I've been around for a while. I'm a known quantity. Now different but still known.

Then the conversation got onto Hillary. Carl hauled out a few words which I hadn't heard since Michele, my physician, had worn the edges off them last month, and Carl and I spent a few pleasurable minutes damning our Empress in Waiting.

Carl is irascible, opinionated, hard-bitten, and independent. I like him. And he is just the sort of fellow who might look askance at me. But I get better service than almost anyone else does and I think that this is another case in which honesty works and works well. Ever since the day of outing I seem to have garnered some authority which was lacking before, and it is something that I gradually noticed, and it only makes sense, for after all, if you present yourself to the world as you think that the world wants to see you, then you are hostage to the world. You've sold yourself for the good opinion of others and people instinctively know when they can step on others even if they don't think of it that way.

And so this good opinion of others might not come for if you have contempt for yourself, then the only thing that keeps others from having contempt for you is a sympathetic pity from a good nature. No one could ever call me dishonest or incompetent or mean--well one bozo did but he was wrong--but when I was not in focus I was not a real man. I was playing at being one and now I'm alive in twenty-four-bit color and Dolby 5.1.

This gets back to character. I read an article in The Spectator in which the author posited that David Cameron, the shadow Prime Minister, ought to ally himself with Hillary, for they have much in common. He confessed to an interest, having worked for her, but he, on the inside, called her a centrist. Which means that he's either a raving loony leftist moonbat with the biggest tin-foil hat in the world, including tin-foil hats with percent signs on them, but based on earlier writings I think not, but it also points up the fact that Our Empress is utterly malleable, saying what she thinks will serve to grant her access to power.

Is this any different from leaning against a street light in the combat zone?

(I apologize to all you men for that image. Do not even think of leopard-print Spandex.)

I never thought that I would have anything good to say about Our Empress, except that I'm not married to her, and that marriage to her couldn't happen to a nicer fellow. I'd love to see the welts on Bill's back, and the fang marks. Can you have fangs and tusks? Well, she's souee generous so all bets are off. But I'll have to say that Our Empress is a peacemaker, who bridges the gulf between men who might not see eye to eye.

Or could it merely be a common hatred of the woman: her desire to order the orbits of the planets, the contents of your pocketbook, your family arrangements, your bank account, your freedoms, and your wallet. And let's never forget her voice which, when she's in full throttle, is like an ice-pick to the base of the neck, reminding every man of a very bad first marriage.

No, she's merely the calling card, the shared interest which proves what we have in common.

Hillary. A major force in homosexual/heterosexual male bonding.

Don't even try.