Lewis Routh was born in Arkansas in 1949. There wasn't much happening in Arkansas in 1949, so Lew immediately moved to Texas. Later in 1960 a move to Oklahoma would bring the most difficult times for a baby homosexual. Everyone else in society saw Lew for what he was and called him lots of vile names. Much later, when "queer" would be adopted by the rebel homosexuals of the future, Lew still found it difficult to hear and impossible to say. Even the program QUEER EYE FOR THE STRAIGHT GUY left Lew's sensitive ears burning. In 1968 after a move to New Orleans and the discovery of many many more homosexuals, "Why even the very name itself, "homosexual" sounds Southern," exclaimed a delighted Lew, "they're all in New Orleans!" A few short, hedonistic years later Lew realized, it's the permissive 70's, if I don't find some order and gentility in my life, I may not live to see 30. A move to St. Louis brought Lew and his beloved, Marlin, together as if destiny were creating the very moment! With Marlin offering the calming influence on Lew's dynamic personality, and Lew exacting a definitive influence on Marlin, they became an excellent team. Three decades later and Marlin and Lew are delighted to find themselves in New Orleans. Life is good.

Musings of an Aging New Orleans Homosexul

What can I say? I was around when the Stonewall riots in New York City opened the door for gay pride and gay rights. Even before that the Mattachine Society and Daughters of Billus fought a pretty good fight, in good, respectable suits and ties of course. It's funny to picture it now -- in retrospect -- they wouldn't let me march one year becasue I was wearing jeans. I wore a tie and a nice long-sleeved dress shirt; but jeans were out of the question. And I had spent an hour ironing the crease in them, too. Today, gay pride parades lean more toward the outrageousness of it all -- it's a festival of colors and giddyness that we never thought of years before -- in all our seriousness.

Who knew Gay Pride could be "fun?"

I imagine tomorrow will be the same. Gay weddings will become outrageous performance art, with the proverbial brides maid-men in the tackiest of tacky dresses. As the gay community becomes more and more accepted, we press the envelope further and further down the path of propriety and become larger than life -- outrageous!

When my lover and I were creating a new life together back in 1977, gay men could not show any public displays of affection. Why, God only knows what would have happened had we -- yikes -- held hands, or -- horrors -- kissed hello at the airport! Propriety dictated to us that we keep ourselves in check. Even when the family came to visit us, we curtailed our affectionate hugs, pats, a quick pecks to behind closed doors.

Even now, in this age where gay men and women can feel the freedom to express their passions publicly, I find it still difficult to offer more than that special glance I gave him and the tender smile that telegraphed a simple message, "I love only you."

And somehow it's better, because it's silent yet he hear's it's message just fine. The "I love you" that comes all brassy and loud is fine for the gay kids of today; but for me, let me hear the silence of the love in his eyes.