I have to go to Curacao next month for a work thing.  I know, tough life.

In surfing the official web page, I noticed that they make a point of advertising themselves to gay tourists--

--and I love how this section of the site is called “Alternative Curacao,” as though it’s a place where you can not only be openly gay but also wear black and listen to Interpol--

--and actually, another link that points to this section is called “Widespread Tolerance,” which is funny because it sounds like a weather report: “Today will be sunny and balmy in Curacao, with widespread tolerance, so haters might just want to stay indoors and knit"--

--anyway, I wondered why all those gay cowboys go to out-of-the-way mountains to conduct their secretive affairs when they could go to Curacao?  If you’re going to deny your identity and fill yourself full of guilt and regret, you might as well do it where it’s really nice outside.  Imagine the arthouse, Oscar-ready dialogue that might result:

“I ain’t queer, you know.”

“Me neither.”

“No, I mean I really ain’t queer.  I just come here for the fruity tropical drinks.”

“Oh yeah?  Then why don’t you bring your wife out here whenever you come see me?”

“.......”

“......”

“....I wish I could quit you.  And then maybe go windsurfing.”

I haven’t actually seen Brokeback Mountain, but I love Annie Proulx’s short story.  The final line is just beautiful: “There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe, but nothing could be done about it, and if you can’t fix it you’ve got to stand it.” Which is a tragic, heart-rending line that underscores that point that I’m making here.  If you have to stand anything, you might as well do so on the beach.