JANUARY 15, 1999 GAY PEOPLE'S CHRONICLE

BIG TIPS

I looked at my partner's e-mail, and found an other man

by M.T. "the Big Tipper" Martone

I am eternally seduced by the idea of ordering music through the mail. This is particularly ironic in light of the fact that my first experience was so painful.

What could I have wanted more, that steamy July of 1977, than the most recent. and heavily advertised K-Tel collection of wacky novelty hits? "The Streak"! "Convoy"! “Mr. Jaws"! The amusingly dated "They're Coming to Take Me Away" and "Kookie, Kookie, Lend Me Your Comb"?

Fortunately, I'd made a little bit of money heaving around and delivering news of Elvis' and Bing Crosby's death that summer in the New Haven Register. I gave my mother money, had her write me a check and give me a stamp, and I mailed away for my very own album.

I waited for six weeks. Then for eight. School started, and I had to ask my mom every day when I got home for news of any arrivals. It never came. My disappointment was deep, but I moved on to fresh obsessions (which included trying to get our local TV station to broadcast The Parent Trap more often, but that's another story).

My fascination with mail order music, however, never flagged. Every time I opened Parade magazine, there it was: the Columbia Record Club ad, with its fabulous perforated sheet of stickers of hundreds of tiny album covers. These were fun in themselves!

I meditated over the selections every week. Which ten would I choose? I didn't even know the names of ten groups. I do remember that the soundtrack from The Sound of Music and John Denver's Greatest Hits always made the final cut. But I never joined. I suspected that sending money in the mail was always an ill-fated risk, and it took me nearly twenty years to succumb to the siren call of Columbia. I got my free CDs last year, and then diligently sent back the little card every month saying "no thank you" to their nutty selections.

Until this past holiday season. I thought, "Oh, this would be à good way to pick up the John Denver's Every Possible Hits Ever for my closet soft-classics-lovin' girlie." So I called with my credit card number, an ample amount of time before the holiday, and I waited. And waited. And it wasn't eight weeks, but when my CD arrived, it was Donovan's Greatest Hits.

Augh! I want to say I've learned some sort of lesson, but as soon as I flip though Parade again, I know I'm screwed.

Dear Big Tipper,

I am writing with a major concern. I recently came across my partner's e-mail, and found myself to be a little nosy. I was just messing around with the computer, and I thought I'd take a peek.

Well, I found letters to another man who lives across the country, who is also in a relationship, and who occasionally attends seminars that my partner also attends. There were remarks such as, “My heart beats faster when I know it's you on the phone, "I miss seeing your smiling face,” and “I want to know your favorite ice cream.

Also, when there is a message indicating that a phone message was left at the other's home, it states that it was "content neutral” and this sounds suspicious to me. Please let me know if you think there is cause for

concern.

New Flavor of the Month?

Dear Ice Cream Snoop,

Well, yes. What do you think? The fact that they're communicating this way doesn't necessarily mean that they've had sex (yet), but it sure sounds like they've got some sort of crush/attraction/affair thing going on.

Unfortunately, you got what you were asking for by being an eavesdropper. It's hard not to look at other people's private writing, journals or correspondence, but you've got to, got to leave it alone. That said, you've got information now that you need to deal with.

If you don't tell him that you know, you'll probably have a boyfriend who's having an affair. If you confront him, he'll be angry that you pried and scared that he got caught, and that combo is ripe for lying.

If you keep your cool, though, you can use your guilt as an equalizer: You're sorry you were a nosebag, is he sorry that he's having this "flirtation" with another man? Then you talk and talk and talk and talk, or talk and talk and break up. A lot depe why your honey is interested in someone else in the first place. Good luck.

Dear Big Tipper,

I have a pretty small question for you. I moved in with a housemate a few months ago. I have always lived with roommates since I graduated from college, and those situations have ranged from pleasant to terrible.

I'm pretty easy to get along with, but the

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one thing that really stands out for me with this new housemate is that he never says hi to me when he comes home, or says goodbye when he leaves. He's straight, and I'm wondering if he might be homophobic.

Hello, Again Hello

Dear You Say Good-bye, I Say HeHo,

He could be a raving homophobe, or he might be shy. Or he could be the type of housemate who creates psychic privacy in a group living situation by keeping to himself. Or he could have been raised by wolves, or some other non-verbal population.

I'm all for modeling desired behavior before actually mentioning anything. When

he comes in, smile at him and say hi. Wish him a nice day casually before he leaves in the morning.

If you still feel frozen out after a few weeks, you can check in with him and ask if he's happy with your living arrangement. If he says yes, and you feel safe around him except for his crime of anti-solicitousness, I'd be happy that his housemately crime wasn't peeing in the kitchen sink.

Burning questions? Contact me at the Chronicle, attention Big Tips, P.O. Box 5426, Cleveland 44101, or fax to 216631-1052, e-mail

martone@drizzle.com.

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