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7/96

I have this neighbor named Otto. He's 92 or 93-years-old, a former artist with one eye and debilitating arthritis. Depending upon who is telling the story, Otto was either a Nazi sympathizer or an anti-Nazi activist, in World War II Germany. But that was so long ago, and Otto is so helpless now, that I'm not sure it even matters anymore.

Perhaps you know him, he has a certain amount of notoriety along the Russian River.

Last week several of my other neighbors were up in arms over Otto because he is an incorrigible slob who has trashed his, once-lovely home in a very nice part of Guerneville, turning it into a trash heap, fire trap, and worse. Over the years, as he has grown more feeble and unable to care for himself they have offered him assistance, but he has often refused their help, or turned against them after accepting it. At least, that's what they tell me, and I have no reason not to believe them.

One thing I know for certain about Otto, because I have witnessed it myself, is that Otto is homophobic. They say he's anti-Semitic, too, and I don't doubt that's true, as well.

Still, despite the fact that I am both Jewish and queer, I cannot join my neighbors in condemnation of the old geezer. Maybe it's because he's been a friend to me since I moved to this neighborhood a year ago. Maybe it's because he stuck up for me when an anonymous neighbor called the county to complain about my barking dogs. Perhaps it's because he told me that he never goes to the doctor, instead he walks around barefoot and soaks up energy from the earth, a practice that earns my admiration.

I suspect the real reason why Otto has won my heart is that he is, in another neighbor's words, "an old rebel from Berkeley" who rails against the government and all the other so-called advances of civilization that threaten to destroy our humanity, if not our very existence.

That is to say, Otto is a man after my own heart, in the deepest sense, and we windmill tilting types can't let a little outmoded bigotry come between us.

Intellectually this may sound like a cop-out, soft-headed, like early Alzheimers has embedded itself in my brain. But that isn't the case at all.

I have not relinquished my "gay rights or bust" soap box for some fuzzy-minded do-gooder mentality. I just think that sometimes people mean more than ideas, even good ideas that are intended to move humanity along.

My visiting parents provided me with another experience of homophobia during that same week. Although i usually count on them to be a bastion of traditional Democratic liberalism, they surprised me by declaring that they are opposed to same-sex marriage because there "would be less children in the world." Honestly, they said this. I am not making it up.

I didn't get a chance to question their reasoning on the subject, because they were only in town for a short time and we had more pressing items on our agenda.

Again, you may say, this is a cop-out on my part. I would agree with that, unless my parents and I get around to discussing it sometime soon, because they are not quite as old and hopeless as Otto. Still, My love and admiration for them as the compassionate and generous people they are will not be diminished if we cannot come to agreement on this issue.

Is this live-and let-live attitude of my a function of aging? Maybe it is, but my almost 13-year-old daughter shares my point of view in this area, so maybe it isn't. She thinks Otto and her grandparents are "adorable." despite their shortcomings.

What I believe is really happening here is an opening of the heart something that took many years for me, but appears to be my daughter's birthright.

What do you think?