I spent a couple of months in El Paso, just more than ten years ago, working for the El Paso Times, and its related New Mexico properties. At the time, I lived near Ann Arbor, Michigan, a scant 1,800 miles from El Paso - a pretty long commute!
I was fortunate, during that brief period of time, to work with a solid team of newspaper industry professionals, and was freed from household tasks, such as cutting the lawn (my lawn in El Paso was made of rocks, El Paso being a desert, after all), grocery shopping, and being a hands-on husband and father.
One morning in the office, while gathering for a weekly staff meeting, a colleague of mine, whom I will call Jim (because that’s his name), sidled up to me, and asked, “Hey Bill, would you like to join us this week for “Gay Night.”
I looked up, startled, and mumbled, “Oh, hey, I’m flattered, that’s awfully nice of you, but, you know, I’m not gay, I’ve got a wife and kids, although they’re not here with me right now. . .”
“No, man, we’re not gay either, that’s not what I’m talking about,” he said.
Jim proceeded to explain to me that he and another colleague of ours, Brian, were also ensconced in El Paso without their wives or kids, and had developed a habit of visiting local bars to have a beer, and to have dinner while there. But, at some point, Jim had suggested that they get together one night a week at his house for dinner, because, in Jim’s view, he was a pretty good cook, and, why not enjoy a relaxed, home-cooked meal, at least once a week? Thus was born, “Gay Night.”
That sounded better than my current dinner planning, which usually entailed grilling hot dogs, or cooking some crappy, frozen meal in a microwave, so I eagerly joined the “Gay Night” team. Ed. note: We debated revising this headline and story-line in order to acknowledge the sensitivity of this topic. You will recognize, as you read the entire piece, use of the term, “Gay Night,” is critical to the narrative arc of this story, and is not now, nor was it then, intended to offend any member of the LGBTQIA2S+ community.
Jim was right: he was a good cook. He grilled pork chops one evening, and we all enjoyed the experience: drinking a bit, and devouring his well-crafted meal, in his open-air, hillside home, replete with expansive views of El Paso, and Ciudad Jaurez, across the border. As an aside, El Paso is a beautiful place, carved-up by the Franklin Mountains, and, as it is known as “Sun City,” you can imagine that there is plenty of sunshine year-round there; it is also home to some of the best Tex-Mex food available, if that’s your thing.
We eventually dialed others into “Gay Night,” including our colleague, Trista, who was an El Paso native, with two young children, who qualified for entry into our exclusive club, due to her husband’s absence: he was away in Kansas, managing the family farm - are you picturing field after field of sunflowers, as I am? What else does one farm in Kansas, right?
As the size of this weekly soiree expanded, Jim wondered if we should invite another colleague of ours, Gary, to join us. Jim’s reticence stemmed from the fact that Gary was gay, and might therefore be offended by the branding we had adopted for the weekly event. Perhaps he was concerned about trademark infringement.
In any event, Jim pitched “Gay Night” to Gary, and he seemed puzzled (as I was at first), but then questioned, “How is it ‘Gay Night’ if I’m not there?”
And so, Gary joined our merry band, and we all looked forward to “Gay Night” each week.
Now, I suppose Jim could have labeled our evening, “Odd Couple Night.” But imagine if Tony Randall had been a member of our management-team at that point - that would have created an awkward conversation as well. Or, he could have termed it, “Extraordinary Chef Night.” Again, let’s say that Bobby Flay happened to be working with us at that time, as the Food Editor at the El Paso Times - I imagine Bobby would have had a thing or two to say about that. A third alternative could have been, “Unusually Well-Tanned Host Night,” given that Jim always sported a pretty deep tan. You know where I’m headed with this, don’t you? That’s right, assume for a moment that George Hamilton was managing our Classified Advertising Sales Department, during that period of time - George was apparently quite protective of his title of “Best Tanned Man Ever” - there might have been fisticuffs.
So you see, any label attached to this weekly outing could have been fraught with potential offense.
I took a job shortly after, with a significantly shorter commute from my home near Ann Arbor, which necessitated my leaving El Paso. I don’t know if the El Paso Times attracted “orphaned” professionals, or, more broadly, if El Paso itself had become a haven for temporary relocation of businesspeople, but it turned out to be a nice “study-break” for me professionally, and “Gay Night” was a memorable part of the experience.
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