I guess it could have been worse. His last name could’ve been Fudge.

Last night I saw the movie Milk. Brilliant strategy by the studio – open up a movie on a family holiday that will be a big success with those most likely to be estranged from their families (to quote Bill Maher – I kid the gays). The movie is about Harvey Milk, the openly gay man who was elected San Francisco city supervisor and was then assassinated by a political rival.

The movie itself was a solid biopic, but I found the theater- going experience even more humorous. First, the movie was only available in three theaters (Chelsea, Village and West 60s). Not a coincidence I assume, but that would be like if Malcolm X only opened at 125th Street, Brooklyn and the South Bronx.

So the theater was about 85% gay men and the few other straight men were clutching to their significant others as if they were protective amulets.

Maybe all the men were not gay, but based on the tight clothing, 5 o’clock shadow, lisps and piercings maybe it was just like a theme opening, but instead of dressing like Star Wars characters or Harry Potter, everyone just dressed up as gay men.

I must also admit that James Franco makes quite the handsome gay man – he was the only one able to pull of the mustache, without evoking thoughts of Freddy Mercury.

Which reminds me – why is it that gay men seem to adopt the tough guy, masculine look of ten years prior.

The mustache was the hallmark of tough guys and firefighters – from Burt Reynolds we got Freddy Mercury.

The Mohawk used to be a scary punk looking thing. Now I assume you are gay if you have one.

The wife beater – the time honored top for ginzos and guidos. Now in the summer it might as well be called a domestic partner slapper.

So I assume in the next 5 years, gay men will be sporting baggy jeans and Fubu jackets.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.