"Hermey doesn't like to make toys" is just code

Editor's note: As promised long ago, a totally inappropriate piece of holiday tale. You've been warned.

* * *

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen. But do you recall the most fabulous reindeer of all?

While visiting my Mom, Vivien Leigh, and my Sis, the Number 1 Beatles Fan of All Time, in Kansas over Thanksgiving, the conversation took an interesting turn. We had blown a little too hastily through our standard entertainment choices--the DVD sets of That Girl! my sister owns and the several weeks' worth of Dark Shadows episodes on loan from Netflix. Thus, we were in desperate need of something, anything, to enjoy while we convalesced from the overindulgence in turkey and trimmings.

Not one to click too much from channel to channel, I used Sunflower Cable's on-screen guide to review the holiday weekend's TV offerings. "Hey, there's a Meerkat Manor marathon on the Discovery Channel. Have you seen this? You guys might like it," I suggested. "Although bad stuff does happen to the animals, and I know how you feel about that." The latter comment was directed toward my sister, who has the world's biggest heart when it comes to mammals, especially of the hirsute, cold nose, and lick-themselves-silly variety.

"No," Vivien said, "Your sister doesn't like that one."

"Oh," I said and chalked it up to the occasional animal death.

Beatles, who does a lot of theorizing in her career as an academic, explained: "It's because the show is so sexist," she said.

"Sexist?" I ventured timidly.

"Tell him your interpretation," my Mom encouraged her.

"Well," she began, "All the female animals, whenever they are out in the open, are 'vulnerable' and can't make it on their own without a man [male animal, that is] being present. The women 'abandon' their children, then are 'punished' for their foolishness by being killed by a predator. Who says that's what's going on? Maybe the females just want to be on their own away from the kids. Maybe it has nothing to do at all with that very sexist interpretation," she said.

"Hmmm," I said, genuinely intrigued. "Sounds like something you could get an article out of."

The conversation turned to other theories, notbably queer theory and the concept of the "gay vague," as my sister put it.

"The gay what?" I said.

"The gay vague--the concept that there is a gay subtext, an indication of gayness in the text, the scene, but it is not explicit. For example, two men are seen together in a scene, and there is an intimate interaction between the two of them--maybe one lights a cigarette for another--something symbolic, but it's not explicit, it's left open-ended so that you don't know for sure whether they are gay or not. Yet it appeals to a variety of audiences, both gay and straight."

"Oh, you mean, like, in Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," I ventured.

"What?" my Sis asked, now herself genuinely intrigued.

I took a deep breath and began extolling a theory I'd had in my head for a number of years.

"Well, Rudolph is an outsider. He is rejected by his family and friends, not allowed to join in with the others because he's different. His father in particular rejects him for his difference--his very obvious difference--and Rudolph runs away to the Island of Misfit Toys, which if that isn't a stand-in for San Francisco or Fire Island or Mykonos, I don't know what is. Along the way he picks up two other misfits--a blond twink with ambitions (that would be Hermey or Herman or, better still, "Her-Man") and a 'bear,' in the gay sense, in the form of Yukon Cornelius."

I continued . . .

"Finally, Rudolph heads home because his family needs his help. Thus, he becomes socially acceptable and part of the community once they discover the benefits of his uniqueness, his 'flaming' red nose and its ability to light the way for Santa and keep Christmas on track for everyone. Despite being an 'outsider' and, thus, to some, an enemy of the family and tradition, Rudolph ends up supporting both structures. The classic 'gay helper' role, I think you would call it. Just like those queens on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.

"I mean," I stuttered, feeling that maybe I'd gone a bit OTT with this analysis, "it's not necessarily a gay story, but you could interpret it that way.

"Oh, and Clarice is just a beard," I added.

"Exactly!" she said. "That's the gay vague!"

And to all a good night.