San Francisco – Ever since he was a little boy, Toni Johanson dreamed of being a pilot in the United States Air Force. One summer during a family vacation in the Florida Keys, Toni had vivid fantasies of standing on the deck of a U.S. Naval ship dressed in well fitted white bell bottoms as he drifted out to sea with hundreds of other physically fit, similarly dressed men. But whether his taut body was sheathed with camouflage army fatigues or stiff and rigid navy whites or blues, Toni throbbed with an insatiable desire to spend his days with the men of the U.S. Armed Forces.
But that dream was shattered when he was sixteen and arrested in a motel with his tenth grade industrial arts teacher.
“I knew in my heart of hearts that when Mr. Lollioff and I began our weekend trysts at the Drake motel, my dream of becoming a war hero was quickly becoming an improbability. So at the tender age of sixteen I begrudgingly discarded my military ambitions and, with clenched teeth, decided on a career dressing windows at high-end retail stores in downtown Indianapolis.”
Just how many homosexuals had their military dreams and ambitions thwarted by an intolerant society over the generations is incalculable. But when “don’t ask, don’t tell” was repealed in the senate, a window of opportunity opened for men like Toni who’ve longed to wear attractive military uniforms while bunking with other uniformed men who want to exercise with them.
“When I was seventeen I met a muscular farm boy from Iowa who was in the army,” shared 46 year-old Robin Martin outside a recruiting center in Miami. “I so wanted to join the army so we could travel to other countries together and kill America’s enemies. I used to lie awake at night and picture the two of us dressed in our fatigues, meticulously lubricating our guns. I loved reading stories about those gruff drill sergeants being all butch and forcing enlisted men to aggressively polish their shoes and belt buckles until they were shiny. Sometimes I had dreams about doing push-ups shirtless in the sticky, sultry heat of some pacific island in the middle of nowhere with hundreds of other shirtless, sweaty and grunting soldiers. As our swollen muscles glistened in perspiration under the merciless, hypnotizing rays of sunshine….”
Robin paused and sighed heavily.
“Anyway… I wasn’t able to fulfill that fantasy because of backward thinking stupid people who just hate the idea that I exist and want me dead. And now I’m too old to pursue my dream all because of mean and selfish pig people!”
Claire Mcfunkelstein is a professional revolutionary from Asheville, NC. She took it upon herself to organize a parade to celebrate the repeal of “Don’t ask Don’t tell.” She spoke with reporters just moments after she and nine other career activists walked through downtown Asheville carrying signs and singing Donovan songs.
“I am just so elated, I can’t even tell you,” McFunkelstein gushed. “I’m sixty-years-old so I’ve seen it all. From the marches on campus in the sixties to the sit-ins and other stuff on campus, I’ve seen it all. But today could be the turning of the proverbial page, if you will, in the dusty old book of equality, acceptance and tolerance.”
McFunkelstein clamped her teeth down on a chunk of organic tofu jerky and aggressively strained to yank off a wedge. After several minutes of aggressive chewing, she washed it down with vitamin enhanced Mongolian spring water.
“Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been a fan of the military industrial complex. Murder is something I’ve marched against my entire life. I spit on Vietnam vets in the seventies and I’ve marched to stop congress from funding the coffers of institutionalized war and destruction. But if my gay and lesbian, bi-sexual and transgendered friends want to be a part of an organization that kills babies and rapes women, then they damn well better be welcomed with open arms.”
Claire McFunkelstein hurried off to UNC Asheville where she and a handful of other professional revolutionaries planned to protest military recruiters on campus.
Sgt. Lancelot Armstrong runs the Naval Recruiting Center in San Francisco. He was forced to make his entire staff work this year’s Memorial Day weekend to handle the expected deluge of homosexuals eager to join up and fight America’s enemies.
“We’re expecting Memorial Day weekend to get pretty hectic. I mean, Lady Gaga is performing in the city on Friday night and then Cher has a concert on Saturday. With these shows culminating at the end of a month long blitzkrieg of recruitment ads directed at our gay citizens, we’re expecting to attract dozens of drug induced young men eager to have their swollen military fantasies stroked. When they start squeezing into my little recruitment center after the rave clubs close, this place is going to be steamier than a Castro Street bathhouse during Fleet Week.