Travelling to London, I decided to watch a few movies to kill off some of the time. Movies and I don’t get along so well these days because of the dementia, but on the plane if I got too scared, or bored, or couldn’t follow it, I just turned it off. The other value in it for me, was we could be watching our own movies together, but my dear husband could actually watch something he hadn’t seen before, or actually wanted to watch because of the individual screens!! One thing I had forgotten about watching movies was how much they make me think, and make me want to write, and, they offer lots of fodder. I watched the movie J Edgar Hoover, and realise of course I would have once known at least some of the history about him and the politics and governments of the time, but most of it was new to me in this movie. I can’t even say if the movie was true to him, or to the times. However, it started me thinking about things I have thought about before, but only fleetingly.

When I was cooking for my living, I had the lease on a beautiful historical home in the eastern suburbs of Adelaide set on almost 5 acres of land, a property called Beaumont House. The weekend events were mostly weddings and christenings, and of the weddings I have notes about, one of them was a gay committment ceremony. This wedding involved a 7 course degustation menu, with beautiful French and Australian wines to match each course, and because the guys were musicians, they had musical interludes between each course. They played 12th Century instruments, although not at their own wedding as the environment needed for these must be temperature controlled, and we didn’t even have an air conditioner for very hot days. Their love for each other was as deep and profound as any other bride and groom I orchestrated a menu and event for, no different to the love between a heterosexual couple. Regardless of this, I didn’t ever tell my parents I was not only allowing gay and lesbian people to have events like this, I was wholeheartedly offering the same service and attention as any other client. Sadly, the negative feelings about homosexuality in my parents generation still exists, not all, but many. Through travelling, my parents have been able to become more accepting about it, but I think underneath would still be horrified if any of us were lesbians (I only have sisters!). I am ashamed to say I was once vaguely discriminating (verbally) about homosexuality.

I felt incredible sadness for John Edgar Hoover and his long-time male companion, Clyde Tolson. Although the relationship wasn’t openly gay at the time, there seems to be a lot of evidence it was. Hoovers mother made mention of it in the movie, talking about one of John Edgar’s school friends, reminding John he was known as Daffy or Daffodil and had shot himself after being teased for dressing in his sisters clothes. She said she would rather her son be dead too, than be a Daffy like him.  What an incredible tragedy and travesty of love. How unbelievably sad that a mother would prefer a dead son over a gay one. It would be easy to judge the mother, but she was probably no different to most others at that time. But her words, and Clyde Tolson’s tears after Hoovers death, made me openly weep. Many of my staff at Beaumont House were gay, and I once asked one I am still friends with if he felt sad he wouldn’t have his own wedding, or wear his own white dress. He talked openly about it to me, and for the first time in my life, I heard first hand how difficult it still is to come out. I felt a little of his deep sadness, and the fear and hurt he had been through. The movie J Edgar Hoover made me feel this again, but more deeply. It never ceases to amaze me how human beings have had (or still have) the capacity to hate or be against other human beings just because they are different, and how this hatred can destroy lives. On not being heterosexual, I say, come on out.