Flashback to my Past

So it was refreshing to hear that The Advocate, a national gay and lesbian newsmagazine founded in 1967, has decided to offer its readers the choice of receiving the magazine without its traditional plastic wrapper, or “privacy wrap” as the magazine termed it. The Advocate had been delivered in an opaque wrapper that shielded its front and back covers, as if it were pornography. According to the magazine’s publisher, the majority of subscribers voiced their preference for getting rid of the wrapper in an April poll. Up until now, The Advocate’s editors said, they were justified in wrapping the magazine because that’s how the majority of readers wanted it delivered. (source)

This reminded me of how things were for us after we left Idaho and moved to San Mateo, California. The year would have been 1978. We live at 3014 Los Prados in San Mateo. How on earth I remember that, I have no idea. Looking out of our apartment window across the street, there was a market where we did most of our grocery shopping. In front of that market were a series of news stands. There was one for the San Francisco Examiner, the San Francisco Chronicle, and, among others, The Advocate. In those days, The Advocate was only sold in tacky news stands. And instead of the nice glossy magazine it is today, it was more of a tabloid-style newspaper.

I would casually pass by it while buying groceries, carefully glancing at it when I was sure no one else was watching. I did this to see if a new edition had come out. If a new edition had come out, I would make note of it. I would not buy one in plain view.

Then, I would get up in the middle of the night around 3:00 a.m., go to the window in our little office where we had a clear view of the stand in front of the market, and make sure that there was no one around, AT ALL. I would then get dressed, walk across the street, quickly put in my money, grab a copy, put it underneath my jacket, and scramble back to the apartment before anyone spotted me. I was certain that if I had been spotted with a copy of The Advocate, I would probably be killed. That was my fear, and it was real. In those days, even the police had very little good to say about gay people.

So this article about The Advocate giving readers the option to not have the magazine in opaque plastic is kind of a breakthrough, I suppose. I get mine every other week in my mailbox, and it is kind of nice to know that my nosy postal delivery person doesn’t know that I am gay. But who am I fooling? They have to know. We get many mailings with both our names on it, such as our mortgage, bank card statements, etc.

So I suppose it’s time I tell The Advocate that I am doing my part to save our planet by telling them to deliver their magazine to me in plain view without the plastic wrapping. Looking back on it, I think it’s a real tragedy that some in our society (like myself back in 1978) live in such fear of what could happen. And many still don’t feel safe. There are about seven states that I feel safe going to in America.

And yet, in this country, we call ourselves “free”. I guess there are degrees of freedom.