Gay Male Potlucks

Today, we are getting ready for a potluck at our house. This is not just any potluck, this is MCGMC (pronounced "mug·muck"), or Montgomery County Gay Men's Community. It started out about twenty years ago, and the average age has increased nineteen and half years over that time. Every potluck dinner is better than the next. I'm not being pathetic, only brutally honest.

We don't go very often, maybe twice a year; we come back to see if it's any better. Some potlucks are delightful surprises, and others are bitter disappointments, but that's what the Wheel of Fortune is all about.

I have these observations about gay social groups: they are rarely heterogenous, and the old drive out the young. There's an awful lot of sophomoric sexual humor that causes my eyes to go into a permanent roll. On the other hand, I plead guilty of the same kind of banter. Some of these guys need to go to Happy's Lame Recipes and really work on improving their culinary skills.

On the other hand, Tim, Brian, Ken, and some others show up whom we genuinely enjoy. At least twice a year, I need to get off my elitist, horrified, high horse, line up around the trough, and dig in.