GLBT -- and friends

By now we've heard it everywhere from "The Daily Show" to the Advocate that Minneapolis is the new gayest city in the nation -- and we're totally cool with that. Clearly, the Twin Cities loves its ever-growing and changing GLBT community.

But it's not only gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender people making up the rainbow that shines over the Twin Cities, but the strong community of friends, family members and allies who weave the web that helps support them. And with the citywide party we call Pride landing this week, those friends are also here to help celebrate.

It doesn't matter that certain closed-minded groups are setting up an anti-gay booth in the midst of the fun, or that some still refuse to believe the bonds of marriage can be stretched to include same-sex couples. It's the real friendships that matter, and for these friends, the fact that their nearest and dearest happen to be gay can be best summed up in one word: "Whatever." Minnesota's GLBT community comprises thousands of unconventional friendships where orientation is beside the point. Here are just a few.

Dane Pederson became best friends with Mitch Kelly in the eighth grade in Wadena, Minn. Now, at 28, they still hang out at least three times a week, watching horror movies, going to the gym, playing for the Twin Cities Gay Softball League and frequenting bars like Jetset. Sounds like a pretty stereotypical friendship between gay men ... except Pederson is straight. It just so happens that two-thirds of his friends are gay dudes.

Pederson and Kelly, who both moved around often as children, forged an immediate connection when they met that lasts to this day. "We have so much in common, it's almost Twilight Zoney," said Kelly. "[Dane] and his dad have the same birthday, my mom and I have the same birthday. ... The number 11 comes up often in our friendship, it's random and weird."

Kelly realized he was gay at a relatively young age. "For the other boys, the 'cooties' went away," he said. "They never went away for me."

"Mitch came out to me right away; it never really mattered to me," said Pederson. "I'm not sure where that came from, because my dad is a military guy and my mom is from a really small town. Mitch was already different for a small town in Minnesota, being Korean and adopted. If anything, [his coming out] just made us closer buds."

Kelly works for Mayer, a locally based marketing company, and does advertising, promotions, event production and art direction for the assortment of events Mayer produces, such as the One Man Minneapolis contest. To add to his already busy schedule, Kelly also started the Twin Cities Gay Softball League, possibly the largest of its kind in the nation.

"Most of the team is made up of my exes, honestly," Kelly said. "Dane is my best friend so it was a no-brainer for him to join. He fits in so well. ... A lot of times people do think he is gay, but he gets along with everyone." Pederson is one of several straight men on the team, though most are gay.

We know you're wondering: Does Pederson meet a lot of chicks, hanging out with a bunch of gay men? "They're getting younger and younger," Pederson said, laughing. "They're all 18 to 21. But we always have a lot in common; I know a lot of girls with gay friends, just not a lot of [straight] guys."

Does Pederson get hit on while dancing at Jetset? Sure. "I take it as a compliment. It means they think you're attractive. It happens. Whatever."

Pederson's and Kelly's close friendship has taught them both a great deal as they've grown. "Over the years, I've had a lot of really close friendships that have grown apart," Kelly said. "It's a true testament that ours has endured through the changes."

Contrary to what some of you may think, every gay-guy/straight-girl friendship is not an exact replay of a "Will & Grace" episode. Sure, there are definitely some friendships that may echo the sitcom that brought the gay lifestyle into Middle America's living room, but that was TV.

Lisa Glad and Drew Becker have been besties since they were sophomores at St. Louis Park High School. The chatty, charismatic Becker and the more reserved Glad sat next to each other in U.S. history class and, after being introduced via a few mutual female friends, became pals.

"It was always Four Girls and Drew," Glad said.

"If I was a girl, or more of a girl anyway, I'd be Lisa," Becker agreed. "And she'd be me if she was a guy."

Glad chimed in: "I used to tell his mom that if I lost my parents in an accident, I'd want them to adopt me."

Becker came out to Glad over dinner when they were 19, so she could meet the boy he was dating. "I was living two different lives and I wanted to combine the two," he said. "I don't know why it was nerve-racking and scary. I knew it would be fine." He had grown up with two gay uncles and a gay "manny," so Becker's coming out experience was relatively smooth.

Glad and her girlfriends weren't surprised to hear the news, and nothing changed. "We went straight from the restaurant to a party."

Becker, a man-about-town with nearly 2,000 Facebook friends, feels at home in the Twin Cities GLBT scene. "When I go to other cities, I want to see what's going on in the gay scene," he said. "Here, it seems to be throughout the city. There's no place where [being gay] is not OK. I don't think it's like that in other places."

Glad and Becker are perfect complements to one another. She's more restrained while he's a talker. She's taught him to think before he reacts, and he's taught her to speak up.

And, of course, the two are planning to attend Pride this weekend. "Every year it seems like every gay person brings a new person to Pride to strengthen and support it," Becker said. "It's a lot stronger [here] than I've seen anywhere else."

Thompson wasn't shy about her orientation. She came out almost immediately and became involved in the GLBT scene, doing promotions for clubs like Lush, the gay bar where she currently works. "Everyone [in the scene] is so welcoming. It's a nice, secure feeling to know you can walk into virtually any GLBT event and feel comfortable and welcomed by everyone."

Thompson depends on a close circle of female friends like Tara Clarkson, whom she lists as her sister on her Facebook profile. "When I first met Laura, she hadn't come out yet," said Clarkson. "I didn't notice any difference [afterward]; she's always been a sweetheart and a really cool girl." The only difference Clarkson saw after Thompson came out was that she now wears less makeup.

"The things I value in female friendships are the same things every other person, regardless of sex, values in their friendships," Thompson said. "Companionship, acceptance ... a shoulder to cry on."

Although Thompson has many straight female friends like Clarkson, she has actually found her closest friends in the lesbian community, like Brianna Kendrick, Meghan Abston and Shannon Jobs. "Laura's somebody I can talk to about anything," said Jobs. "She's one of my best friends. The people in my life are there for a reason," Jobs said. "[Female friendship] can be compared to a lesbian relationship; it's a different emotional connection."

"When I look back and really take a look at the friendships I have developed over the years with women, I'm surprised at the drastic feelings I have comparing and contrasting the female friendships between the straight community and the GLBT community," Thompson said.