I feel terrible for the family of the Boy Scout in California who was struck by lightning and left brain-dead, I really do. But maybe this is a sign from God. Maybe it's time for the old Boys' network to rethink its position on letting gays hold visible leadership roles in the organization. Lord knows somebody's got to give that group a makeover.
Coming just a few days after four Scout leaders were killed in some weird electrical accident at some big festival called the Jamboree and when dozens of the boys were overcome by extreme heat, I must speak out. I mean, who would want all those potential dates to get so sick? They're the kind of boys—once they grow up—you want to take home. They're polite, resourceful, and much handier with tools and survival stuff than most of the guys you'd meet at a bar or at New York Gay Men's Chorus. I can just imagine one of those troop leaders in those cute shorts uniforms, the little knot at their necks begging you to untie it. I digress…
For years, it seems, the Boy Scouts of America has been faced with the organizational crisis of reality: some of the troop leaders are queer! And how can a group so entrenched in American wholesomeness permit such depravity in its ranks?!? Please. In this day and age, the Boy Scouts are an endangered species amongst the hip kids. What better way to jazz up their image than to have a Queer Eye for the Scout Guy?
I would sign up to be a troop leader in a second. Not because the boys are fun to look at. That's creepy. I would do it so I could tell my friends that I was going to a Jamboree. I could wear my little tan and green costume. I just know I'd have a good time sewing badges on the sleeves of deserving Scouts—perhaps bedazzling them with a few rhinestones so others would notice the kids' achievements. While I don't know how good I'd be on long hikes in my D&G black leather wing-tip boots, I think I could muster some esprit d'corps when it came time for the sing-a-long at the campfires. And rather than showing them how to pitch a tent, I would teach them how to get an upgrade at swanky hotels by flirting with the hotel manager. It's so much more practical. How often do you get stuck in the woods versus how many times are you at the W in San Francisco and stuck with a Queen? Bed, that is… You need the extra room a King affords you. With my help, these boys will learn to lean in over the cool, deep, marble counter, and with one look, get what you want from the gentleman who just insisted he doesn't have room at the inn.
So once the tragedy of recent days wears off a little, I encourage the claustrophobic leadership of the Boy Scouts to think about being a little more open to ho-mo-sexuals into their ranks. If nothing else, it'll show the kids that there's more than one way to suck venom out of a snake bite.
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