Withering Glance: A home for grumpy old gays

Rick Nelson and Claude Peck dispense unasked-for advice about clothing, relationships, grooming and more.

CP: They are building one of the country's first GLBT senior-citizen residences in south Minneapolis. I heard you were on the wait-list.

RN: A guacamole, lettuce, bacon and tomato old-folks home? Kidding. I know: It's called Spirit on Lake, a 41-unit co-op on East Lake Street in Minneapolis -- once again, the gays pitch in to revitalize the inner city -- that's a joint venture with Spirit of the Lakes Church. God bless those Congregationalists.

CP: Just imagine spending your sunset years among oldsters of similar persuasion. Midafternoon lectures on Gerty Stein, the history of musical theater or the legacy of Hedi Slimane's years at the house of Dior. Pool aerobics led by the buff-but-gray Doug Melroe. Comely nurses of the same gender to provide massage and the occasional Aveda-scented sponge bath. ... I could go on.

RN: I'm sure you could.

CP: On the other hand, by the time I'm 80, do I still want to be arguing about the relative merits of a Levis 511 vs. a 514? Seriously, I have wondered whether I'd rather live with gay seniors or "regular" ones. You?

RN: Forget about straights vs. gays; I wonder if I'll want to be surrounded by fellow old farts. It brings to mind what my nonagenarian grandfather used to say about the senior co-op where he lived. He would sigh when I'd drop him off and say, "This place is full of old people," as if he were still in his 40s. Should I be so lucky to live as long as Arthur did, that's probably going to be my mindset, too: perennially 45.

RN: Do I have to? Like everyone else in America, I loathe contemplating my advancing age. Let me put it this way: When I'm old and gray -- wait, make that older and grayer -- I hope to make my residence where a winter coat is a foreign object. When I visit Palm Springs, Calif., aka Gay Sun City, I wonder if I could call it home. Maybe, although the restaurants would have to get a whole lot better. What about you?

CP: Well, I'd love to be a giant burden on my children, but that won't be happening, so it may fall to you to put up with my kvetching about supplemental Medicare and my dental problems as you wheel me around a lily pond.

RN: Oh, dear. When did I sign on for that duty?

CP: Well, you are quite a bit younger. I expect I'll precede you.

RN: I'd make a terrible Jane Hudson, although I can kind of see you as a Blanche type. She was the classy one.