The gay population of the South End misses the day when they were accepted and not made to feel like they were on display in a zoo to shocked onlookers. We miss the straight neighbors who made us feel accepted and comfortable. Anybody who didn't know that there was a gay presence (albeit now a diminishing one) here must have been living in a cave.
The new Megan and Sean couples want nothing to do but be close to trendy dining spots, suck more $$ out of mumsy and daddy, push out an unruly tot or two, and then get out of the neighborhood.
I remember a day not too long ago when gay men had planted those wooden half-barrels on streets all over town with flowers to brighten up the neighborhood. I remember when a friend who was responsible for the plantings in several of those barrels was thanked by his neighbors (who lived in Section 8 housing) with a plate of home-baked cookies and the warm cameraderie between these neighbors. Another friend used to visit the elderly in a neighborhood housing project nearby. Somehow I don't think Megan and Sean will be doing anything like that between jaunts to Stella and The Butcher Shop.
But they know how to scream into a cell phone about how drunk they were last night while stumbling down Waltham Street (a/k/a "Fraternity Row") at 2:30 in the morning.