[1]When the Wall Street Journal inserted this photo of Supreme Court nominee, Elena Kagan, on their front page, they were accused of playing the gay by insinuation card. Rumors have been flying since Ms. Kagan first appeared on Obama’s short list, because, let’s face it, if you’ve reached the age of 50, without marrying, and have cropped hair, there’s only one conclusion to be drawn. Lesbian. For years now, members of my extended family have wondered if I was gay. Not only am I perennially single, and wear a pixie cut (which I see more Jean Seberg [2], then K.D. Lang), but I worked on The Celluloid Closet [3], have tons of LGB friends, and spent years living in San Francisco. To them, the case was closed. To counter my family’s assumptions, I’d boorishly boast of exploits with men, while trying to girly it up with Manolo Blahnik heels, until I finally realized, “who cares?” Of course, the inner circle knows the truth. They’ve witnessed my endless dating and boyfriend disasters. For the record, I can’t bat to save my life.
Photo: Elena Kagan, 1993, Associated Press