A Friend of Dorothy: Life on the Yellow Brick Road

By Michael Foley

"A Friend of Dorothy/Life on the Yellow Brick Road" chronicles one man's journey on the road to self-acceptance and peace. A funny, heartwarming trek down the path that eventually leads to "home". A home that all members of the LGBTQ Community are deserving of.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 14, 2012
• ISBN: 9781623098551

Michael Foley

Michael Foley was born in Derry, Northern Ireland, but since 1972 he has lived in London, working as a Lecturer in Information Technology. He is the author of two previous books, of which one, The Age of Absurdity, was a bestseller.

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PREFACE

Friend of Dorothy adj. [origin unknown] referring to or directly related to Dorothy Gale (aka Judy Garland) from the film ‘The Wizard of Oz’; used primarily as a term of endearment when referring to the male homosexual…

Although there are many theories and schools of thought in regard to homosexuality, the one thing that all great scientific minds agree upon is this: The male homosexual has a genetic predisposition in believing that, Judy Garland is absolutely FABULOUS! Along with show tunes, Barbra Streisand, Liza Minnelli, anything with sequins and of course, tiaras. The male of the species is also likely to be quick witted, sarcastic and perfectly suited to be cast as the movie heroine’s best friend. He is the quintessential hairstylist and excels at interior design, wedding planning and floral arranging. Oh… Did I happen to mention sarcasm?

The female of the species, aka Lesbian, is a skilled craftsperson. She loves home repair (they all own tool belts), logging, truck driving and of course wearing flannel. She is also quite the sports enthusiast and excels at softball, tennis, golf and field hockey. They are normally a docile group of individuals but when provoked can be far more dangerous than their male counterparts. Never, ever, ever poke them with a penis!

By now you may be asking yourself how I know so much about these fascinating and often misunderstood creatures. You may also be asking "How could someone be so intuitive and have his finger so on the pulse of this community to be able to paint such a vivid and concise stereotype?" Well, hold on to those tiaras and tool belts (or whatever else may be within grabbing distance). I myself happen to be gay. I like men. In fact, I love them. I have loved them since the day I was born and I will love them until the day I die. Neither therapy nor attempting to ‘pray the gay away’ could possible change that. God or Whomever or Whatever you believe in that is responsible for our existence made me this way, which means I, and everyone else born into this life, is perfect. Homosexuality IS NOT a choice. It IS NOT a preference. It IS NOT a lifestyle. Choice, preference and lifestyle refer to where one chooses to live. Or shop. Or whether one should wear white after Labor Day (I say no, but that is just my personal preference. See how that works?). Or where one chooses to pray or not to pray. Or a million other things that one can change his or her mind about throughout the course of their lifetime.

Being gay is as much who I am as the color of my eyes or my flat feet. My sexuality has never been a source of pain or confusion for me but society’s treatment of both members of my community and myself has been. And I say that because no one but us will ever know what it feels like to be ridiculed and ostracized for simply being who we are on the level that we do. And in no way am I playing the ‘our pain is greater than their pain’ card here because it is not – It’s just different.

Different because we are unlike any other minority in so much as a person of color or of a particular ethnic background will never have to fear being disowned by his or her family because they themselves are a member of one of the afore mentioned groups. They were accepted for who and what they were the day they were born.

Different because of the overwhelming sense of isolation we experience during our adolescence. For the vast majority of us, home is not a safe environment and hiding who we are is our way of life.

Different because other minorities will never have to fear losing a job if they are ‘outed’. You see, chances are if a person of color was hired to do a job, that one day the boss isn’t going to show up to the office and shriek Oh, my God! He/she is African American! Fire him/her. And if that were to happen, Federal Law would force said employer to pay dearly for that decision. We as Tax-paying citizens of ‘The United States Of America’ are not afforded that luxury. In fact, there are still 29 states in this country where it is perfectly legal to fire someone simply because they are a member of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender and Questioning community.

And there you have it… Just some of the differences between those of us in the LGBTQ (Can we stop adding letters now?) community and those in other minority communities… No better, no worse, just a slightly more challenging way of living. Of navigating the waters of our lives to eventually land on the shores of complete and total self-acceptance. A difference that I believe can and eventually will be the source of our true strength.

We are a work in progress as a community and I believe finding our voice is a crucial part of that journey. A voice that tells us, with absolute certainty, that we are equals. A voice that will ring out loud and clear for future generations of boys and girls and men and women in the LGBTQ community that says you are perfect as you were created. We can no longer choose to stay chained to a belief system perpetuated by the narrow-minded that tells us that we are somehow flawed because of our sexual orientation… That tells us we should live in secrecy and not flaunt who we are… That tells us our lives should be led with a sense of shame… No one should be forced hide in the shadows and accept scraps of compassion, or tolerance, or basic civil rights tossed their way by people who believe they are somehow superior. No one. We do now and always have deserved better. We just need to believe it at our core. And until the day all of us do, none of us can.

Our community has been here since the dawn of man and will continue to be here long after the voices of those who choose to hate have faded. We have made great strides over the last few decades in regard to civil rights and how we are perceived by the outside world but I believe there is also an inner journey we must trek. If we begin to listen to our hearts, instead of the voices of the intolerant, we can once and for all own our birthright… Write our own stories… And finally live our lives in peace, knowing that who we are is exactly who we were intended to be.

The Music of My Heart

My relationship to music is a simple one. For me, it has always been a place to go for peace and hope, for solace and comfort but more importantly, for healing. It has helped me to make sense of life when that seemed impossible and to feel connected to something greater than myself when loneliness was all I knew. For me it made perfect sense that it be the through-line for the chapters that follow.

In my teens I would hear a song like George Benson’s ‘The Greatest Love of All’ or Louie Armstrong’s ‘What a Wonderful World’ or Barry Manilow’s ‘All The Time’ and I would feel less alone… Less hopeless… Less isolated. There was a life out there that was more than I could see, more than I was living and I hoped and prayed that one day I would find it. And one day I did. And now I know at least this much. I am not alone.

Music along with literature, poetry, theatre and film saves hundreds of lives every day. The ‘Arts’ unite us. They enlighten us. And more importantly, they empower us. They also provide a safe haven for those of us searching for answers that may be, momentarily, out of our realm of existence. It’s no wonder so many of us in the LGBTQ community wind up there. The arts are that rare place where someone can go and experience complete freedom and fleeting moments of unconditional acceptance.

Having been blessed to dip the big toe of my left foot into the enormous pool that is the entertainment industry, I have learned at least this much. Artists are, at their best, conveyers of truth. Their truth… Their stories… Their lives… I will be eternally grateful for that. I owe my life to the artists who have chosen to bare their souls despite their fears. Their voices have helped and continue to help me feel connected to life even when my circumstances tell me something completely different. Even when my heart is broken and believing that there is an actual purpose for our existence seems impossible, they are there… Steadfast, always faithful, always reminding me of a greater purpose… Their inspiration and strength are what led me to write the pages that follow. This is my story, not at all uncommon… A patchwork quilt made up of Kodak moments (essays if you will)… Moments that have defined who I believe I am as a person… And more importantly, moments that still challenge the idea of who I believe I will eventually become and how I fit in as someone who is part of a larger community… If by chance you happen to see a glimpse of yourself in any of the chapters then I hope for at least a moment, you feel less alone. The world we live in can, at times, seem unkind but it helps to remember this… Through connection with other people who share similar experiences is where we will find our home.

There has been a soundtrack to my life… Music that when I am down I go to and it lifts my spirits…. Music that when I’m walking on air raises me into the stratosphere…. Xanadu. A place I still seek. A place I hope we all come to. A place where love and