Happy Birthday, Mr. GayProf

Now that I have recovered from my throat eating bacterial infection, I can think of more pleasant things. And what is more pleasant than my birthday? Yes, this weekend GayProf’s odometer rolls over to 34.

I find it hard to believe my birthday is already here. Where has the summer gone? Oh, right – The Never Ending Research Project of Doom and illness. Hey, it can’t all be sunshine and lollipops.

As is tradition at CoG, it’s time to break out the ol’ subjunctive mood. Let’s measure my life against where other people were at the same age. :

If I were Jacqueline Kennedy at age thirty-four, I would have moved out of the White House last year following the untimely death of my husband.

If I were John F. Kennedy, I would currently be serving in the U.S. House of Representatives. I would meet Jacqueline Bouvier next year.

If I were Jesus at age thirty-four, I would have been dead for one year.

If I were Mary Richards at age thirty-four, I would have moved to Minneapolis four years ago. It would be abundantly clear that I was going to make it after all.



If I were Cher, this would be the year that I formed the doomed band Black Rose. It would be two years before I starred in Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean on Broadway.

If I were James Dean, I would have been dead for ten years.

If I were Cleopatra VII, I would be Queen of Egypt and Cyprus.

If I were Julius Caesar, it would be another sixteen years before I would meet Cleopatra VII.

If I were Mark Antony, it would be another seven years before I started an affair with Cleopatra VII.

If I were Montgomery Clift, I would be enjoying critical acclaim for my role in From Here to Eternity. In two years, I will smash my car into a telephone pole and disfigure my face.



If I were Pancho Villa at age thirty four, I would become provisional governor of Chihuahua in the midst of the Mexican Revolution. It would be another three years before I decided to launch an attack on New Mexico.

If I were Harvey Milk, it would be another 13 years before I became the first openly gay elected official in a major U.S. city.

If I were Miguel Otero, II, it would be another three years before I became the first Mexican American governor in the U.S. (Appointed to govern New Mexico)

If I were Ezequiel Cabeza De Baca, it would be another nineteen years before I became the first elected Mexican-American governor in the U.S. (Serving New Mexico).

If I were Octaviano Ambrosio Larrazolo, I would be the District Attorney of El Paso. It would be another thirty-five years before I became the first Mexican American elected to serve in the U.S. Senate (for the State of New Mexico).



If I were Saint Anthony of Padua, I would currently be serving in the papal court of Gregory IX. I would only have another two years to live.

If I were Che Guevara at age thirty four, I would be a key figure in the Cuban Missile Crisis.

If I were Marilyn Monroe, this would be the year that I shot my last full film, The Misfits.

If I were George W. Bush, I would be a major failure and an embarrassment to all of humanity (this is true at any age).

If I were Kate Jackson, I would have left Charlie’s Angels four years ago. It would be another year before I starred in Scarecrow and Mrs. King.

If I were Farrah Fawcett, I would have left Charlie’s Angels four years ago. It would be another three years before I made the Burning Bed.

If I were Jaclyn Smith, this would be my last year on Charlie’s Angels. I would be the only one of the original three to stay through the show in its entirety.



If I were Barbie, this would be the year that I declared “Math class is tough.”

If I were Emperor Maximilian I of Mexico, I would be under heavy pressure to abdicate my fabricated claim to a fabricated throne. France would also withdraw its military support. This would therefore be my last year alive.

If I were Barack Obama, I would currently be working as a Civil Rights attorney in Chicago, Illinois.

If I were either of my parents, I would already have three children. The youngest would be six years old (who would later grow up to be the most desirable man on the blogosphere).

If I were Queen Elizabeth I of England, this would be the year that I imprison Mary, Queen of Scots.

If I were Diego de la Vega, I would have been fighting injustice as Zorro for a full decade.



If I were Dolly Parton, I would have three number-one songs on the chart this year: “Starting Over,” “Old Flames,” and “9 to 5.” The last would be nominated for an Oscar.

If I were Billie Holiday, it would have been two years since I was convicted on drug charges. I would be banned from performing anywhere in New York for the rest of my life. It would be another five years before I decided to tour Europe, where I was much more appreciated than in the U.S.

If I were GayProf, I would have finished my first year at Big Midwestern University and be working on the Never Ending Research Project of Doom – still. Oh, wait, I am GayProf.

If I were Lupe Vélez, I would be at the height of my popularity in the U.S. as the star of the “Mexican Spitfire” films of the 1940s. I would commit suicide in two years.

If the people want me to be President of the United States, it will still be another year before that will be allowed by the Constitution. I can be named Supreme Emperor at any time.

If I were Eva Perón, I would have been dead for one year. Argentina may or may not have been crying for me.

If I were Wonder Woman, I would age another 2,457 years before joining Patriarch’s world to fight crime.