When I was a kid, I used to steal glances at the Playboy magazines at the barber shop. The barber shop I went to was Johns’ – it was run by John, and his son, John.
The other day I found myself in a barbershop not unlike Johns’. A different John shaved my head with a straight-edge razor as I glanced in the mirror at the reading rack. The material was similar to that I remember as a kid, with one notable exception. The magazines in the rack were Playboy, Men’s Fitness, Maxim, GQ. And the Advocate, and Out.
This is the acceptance of homosexuality as normative in the most heteronormative redoubt I know.