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“I didn’t think that guy was queer, but now that I give it some thought, I guess I did think he acted a little funny, and yeah, it makes sense that he’s a homo.” 

I was on a week-long visit to New Jersey, sitting in my parents’ living room, watching the evening news. New Jersey Gov. McGreevey had just announced that he was gay, and that he was stepping down from office. Viewing the news with my parents is always rife with potential landmines. I know I should keep my mouth shut during broadcasts but I can’t help myself. 

“Daddy,” I said. “Don’t talk like that.” 

“What’s the matter?” asked Dad, sitting next to me on the couch. “You didn’t know he was a homo?”  

“I never thought about it,” I answered. “I’m too busy worrying about the politics of my adopted home state. You never know what Arnold is going to do next.” 

“Well,” said my father, “at least you’ve got a red-blooded American for a governor.” 

“Daddy!” I shouted. “Arnold Schwarzenegger is from Austria. Why do you think he talks so funny?” 

“You know what I mean,” said my father. “He holds up family values. He believes in America. He’s a flag waving, right-thinking Republican. Personally, I like the guy. Not as much as Reagan, of course. But at least he isn’t a homo.” 

Just then my mother came into the room. “Oh no,” she said, wringing her hands and plopping down on the couch beside me. “More about McGreevey on the news? I can’t stand it. Think of his poor wife and children.” 

“You know, Susan,” said my father, ignoring my mother and staring straight ahead at the screen, “It doesn’t really bother me that the guy is a homo. But what does bother me is that he’s a cheat. He gave that Israeli guy a job and the slob never went to work. Just collected a paycheck and wrote poetry. What a crock, and a crook.” 

“Yes, Daddy,” I said. “He shouldn’t have done that and for that reason, and that reason alone, he should resign. But not because he’s gay.” 

“What about family values?” asked my mother. “What about Bill Clinton and Ted Kennedy?” 

“What do Clinton and Kennedy have to do with this?” I asked, but I knew what was coming. 

“Well, for one thing, they’re both Democrats,” said Dad. 

My mother looked at me. “You know that horrible Teddy Kennedy walks around in his underwear in Florida and takes young girls home from bars. And Bill Clinton, he’s the man who taught the youth of America about… about...” 

“About what?” I asked. 

“You know what…” said Mom by way of explanation. 

“No, what?” I asked. I knew exactly what she was getting at but I wanted her to say it out loud, just for once. 

“You know full well what your mother is referring to,” said Dad. 

“What?” I asked again.  

“You know,” said mom. 

“Sex,” said Dad. 

“Oral sex,” said Mom.  

“In the White House,” said Dad.  

“How disgusting,” said Mom. 

“With that woman,” added Dad. 

“And god knows who else,” said Mom. 

“I guess how you view what happened has to do with how you feel about oral sex,” I said to no one in particular. 

Both of my parents looked at me in alarm. It was getting uncomfortably warm sitting on the couch between them. 

“Susan,” said my father. 

“What?” I asked. 

“I want you to sit very still,” he said. 

“Yes?” 

“Sit very still and don’t say another word,” he said. 

“Don’t say another word?” I asked. 

“Yes,” said my father. “Don’t say another word for the rest of your visit.”›