A May-December Affair To Remember

The rising politician gets felled by sex scandal when his affair with a young intern comes to light and makes headlines, followed by calls for his resignation.

No, you’re not in caught in one of those Lost time warps, landing back in 1998 to watch the Bill-Monica fiasco. You’re watching the nation’s most prominent gay mayor – Sam Adams of Portland, Ore. – sweating in the spotlight after he copped to romancing an 18-year-old intern and then lying about the relationship before his election last November.

Adams, 45, last month publicly acknowledged that as a city commissioner he grew interested in Beau Breedlove, then 17, and had sex with him after he turned 18, the legal age of consent in Oregon. Adams has admitted lying about the relationship in 2007 as he was considering a run for mayor and asking Breedlove to lie about it, too.

The state’s attorney general is investigating to see if a crime was committed, namely third-degree sex abuse. What, you say? Well, twinkie Breedlove admitted that they kissed at least twice while he was 17, including a “lingering” smooch in a City Hall bathroom (I was ready to guess near the lockers after algebra class).

All this mess has made me wonder if Adams (and by extension Breedlove) will be treated differently because he’s gay. I suspect so.

Because sexuality is our most defining trait, fair or unfair, in the public mind, matters involving sex then take a disproportionately larger role in people’s perception of us. So some people wanting to bury Adams are motivated in part by their disapproval and disgust of homosexuality and gay sex.

Too much of a leap? Critics, including reporters, bloggers, officials and local residents, have already taken to calling Adams a "predator" and a "pedophile." It’s worth noting many of these criticisms came when all intimacy between the two was thought to occur after Breedlove’s 18th birthday – when both were consenting adults in the eyes of the law.

It would be one thing if these criticisms emphasized the unequal balance of power in this relationship, which I think is a key point of concern. When someone is technically your boss, are the boundaries completely set? Can you really go to 100% professional mode from 9-5, and freakydink mode at night, and no issues of control and power ever come into play? I doubt it. That was a legitimate issue with Clinton, Leader of the Free World, and Lewinsky, flirtatious Valley girl.

The bigger problem is that Adams lied about it and asked his former lover to lie. If he did nothing wrong in his mind, why cover it up? And there is the age difference. Breedlove claimed that he knew the full ramifications of what he was doing even when he first met his “mentor” Adams – more than twice his age – before the hanky-panky. Yeah, I thought I knew everything when I was 17 and 18, too.

But most of the current flack really comes from the idea of Adams as chicken hawk swooping down on boy Breedlove. The “pedophile” tag comes out of hoary stereotypes linking homosexuality with child abuse.

Unless this investigation does determine laws were broken, I don’t think Adams should lose his job, just like I didn’t think Clinton should have lost his. That’s not to say Adams did nothing wrong. He behaved inappropriately in his capacity as a local lawmaker. If he had a hankering for barely legal things, he could have gone to Portland’s version of Apex on Thursday nights instead of City Hall. Just like Clinton shouldn’t have been blown in the Oval Office while waiting for Yasser Arafat’s phone call.

But it’s not quite the same, is it? It’s hard to assume if Breedlove were female that Adams would be seen as a threat to all impressionable young women, like he’s seen as now with impressionable young men. Clinton, and other straight politicians (think John Edwards, David Vitter) caught up in sex scandals, are rascally and tacky skirt chasers. Gay politicians, or those caught up in a gay scandal (think Larry Craig), have a deeper shadow cast on them. They become “sick,” “disgusting” or “predatory.” There's an exaggerated sense of shock and titillation perpetuated by the media.

Maybe that’s why Adams lied. He knows there are different standards and perceptions. And once the haze of romance cleared and the reporters started sniffing around because of the affair rumors, he knew he’d be dead meat if he was honest. Unfortunately for Adams, that may happen anyway.

Oh Come All Ye Unfaithful

Oh, Johnny boy, say it isn’t so.

It’s funny how infidelity is as old as the hills and yet, there’s always this gasp when you hear about a famous figure – in this case John Edwards – who cheats and gets caught. Most of us have been touched by it, whether instigator or victim, so why the shock and awe? I’m more interested in what we nobodies, who would never be profiled in The National Enquirer or on Nightline, think about it and why we (don’t) do it.

Many years ago, I was very black-and-white about cheating. My line of thinking was if my significant other was unfaithful, I would end the relationship. It’s a violation and breach of trust. I still believe that last part but, just like many things in life, my thinking has evolved with experience. Cheating is still a difficult thing to deal with, but I’ve learned there are many layers underneath that motivate our actions.

We men have largely been taught to think the worst of ourselves when it comes to sex. I’ve heard my mother, aunts, cousins, sisters, female friends or girlfriends complain with some variation of "Men are dogs," "Men are weak," or just an exasperated "Men!"

A sense of fatalism can quickly develop. Many of us feel we have a license to cheat because that’s what men do after all – instant self-fulfilling prophecy. Many of my male gay friends and colleagues seriously think monogamy is not possible and have never had a monogamous relationship. It’s hard to fight against stepping out if you assume it is expected or inevitable.

As plenty of straight men cheat – some can argue they have taken it to high art – a conundrum bedevils gay men, I think. Part of our identity is our sexuality. Heterosexuals aren’t defined by their sex partners as we are because gays are "the other." Sex playing such a prominent role in the culture provides wrinkles and more than a little insecurity. For a lot of us, our value and self-worth come from our sex appeal – how many men we can attract, get, and please. Being committed to one person can suddenly seem a little oppressive. The desire to be noticed and wanted feeds our ego and vanity, and trouble may follow.

I’ve never cheated on anyone because I couldn’t stand being disloyal or deceitful. But part of staying faithful has been outright forcing myself to keep the big picture in hand and not assuming I’ll be good just because I love my partner. I’ve scaled back going out to clubs, and avoided chat rooms because I’m not going to willfully create a situation that will be that much difficult to get out of. Without my asking, my partner took down his online profiles and even avoided the showers at his gym because of that same mentality.

An informal survey of some friends who had a relationship over the last several years that involved cheating revealed few cases of breakaway lust, like going away on a business trip and getting seduced by Doug in accounting. Most were in situations with looming unresolved and/or uncommunicated issues that led to seeking solace or escape in straying. In a case where I was cheated on, we were clearly at the beginning of the end and he checked out.

Infidelity is no longer an automatic deal breaker for me. Sure, I’d be sad, hurt, and angry but it depends on the situation. If my partner has a one-time fling and can be honest about his mistake and show contrition, I don’t think I can throw it all away. After all, one of the measures of a man is the ability to admit when he’s wrong and do what it takes to be right again. And besides, one mistake does not represent anyone’s full character.

Now if someone were to have an affair(s) or stray multiple times, that’s different. It’s continuously diverting some affection, attention and work from our relationship elsewhere and it’s sacrificing not just fidelity but faithfulness in the concept of "us."

I’m not sure what John Edwards was thinking. His admittance of narcissism made me think the usual politician’s mea culpa was now a breath of fresh air. Then he wanted to make me knock the fresh air out of him when he stressed his dalliance happened when Elizabeth was in remission for her cancer – as if it makes it all better. He became preening and calculated, and his glib answer made it all seem so simple.

But Johnny boy, it ain’t simple.