Note: a version of this review is being aired this week on the international LGBTQ radio syndicate This Way Out, headquartered in Los Angeles. To listen to the entire news wrap, click here.
I was having a spirited, if heated, debate with an older colleague of mine on the bus in New York City. She was insisting that by looking at life through a queer lens, that I was limiting myself. My voice got louder as I explained that when I listened to her advice, I felt erased.
Another woman on the bus – who apparently had been listening intently — interrupted us to tell us that we were almost at our stop.
I said to myself that I understand that not everyone gets everything. So I decided that nothing gay was going to pass my lips for the next several hours. We went to our meeting in Harlem and then on the way back, as the bus detoured around the Puerto Rican Day Parade, my colleague got into a conversation with a woman sitting in the seat in front of us. The conversation led from the detour to the list of parades that the woman – a lifelong New Yorker – talked about. She was blasé and ended by mentioning the [quote] gay parade. I simply smiled. But my colleague muttered, “isn’t anyone normal anymore?”
The woman she was talking to – who was probably in her sixties somewhere between our two ages – looked at her calmly and said, “Anyone can start a parade. All you need is a permit. You can start your own parade.”
At this point, I still remained silent. But my suppressed laughter nearly propelled me into the aisle. Fortunately our stop was soon. As I disembarked, I remarked to myself that the world really has changed. Ten years ago, I would have had to contend with both of them being homophobic.
My colleague and I have since gone our separate ways. But the fact is that she initially had a point – even if my ire got the best of me. All of us – who identify as LGBTQ – lead multi-layered lives. I was reminded of this when I read John Garabedian’s book, aptly titled, The Harmony of Parts. Written with Ian Aldrich, the book was published in 2016 by Orange Frazer Press.
I learned a few things from reading the book. One was about the radio industry. John was a top forty radio jock en route to his dream of owning his own station – a goal which he reached and after that took a foray into television. I thought about his statement that baby boomers wanted music that was not only good but a reflection of their social values. This statement is true.
John is Armenian-American, the son of an Armenian immigrant mother who taught him to pursue his dreams. John is also bisexual. And both of these identities made him feel different growing up. Also, he writes about growing up in an earlier era when masculinity was different:
“Back then, fathers weren’t expected to be affectionate. There was a certain ‘manhood’ they had to live up to. Get a good job, provide for your family, keep to yourself. Men didn’t hug or show affection back then, it was regarded as queer. Not a lot of ‘I love you.” Oh sure, I thought he loved me. I know he was proud of me, but he never felt comfortable saying those things. It just wasn’t in him to be affectionate. He didn’t feel it was manly.”
The book illustrates that radio is an extremely volatile industry. Many of John’s positions ended abruptly. At least in one instance John was fired from a radio show because people – specifically advertisers – found out that he was in a same-sex relationship.
John started his radio career in the late 1950s and early 1960s, around the same time he fell in love with another man. He writes, “Clearly I was in love, but uptight and timid about letting the world know about it. In 1961, homosexuals were generally regarded as perverts, rapists, and child molesters. Any sexual act outside of heterosexual intercourse in the missionary position was illegal in Massachusetts as a ‘crime against nature’ and punishable with serious jail time. I still did care what the world saw and what it thought of me. But I worried about what Joe thought, too, I didn’t want him thinking that I was a wimp.”
This is a book about many things – about pursuing your dreams and how family can be a strong part of the drive that is necessary as well as offering love and support. It is also a book about the radio industry and musicians he interviewed and how their music can change the world. I’m a big fan of the gay-icon Lady Gaga and, in full disclosure, was pulled in by her back cover blurb that, “If it weren’t for John Garabedian, no one in America would know who I am.”
It is also a book about honesty and passion and how that, too, fuels us. But most of all it is a book about a multi-layered life.
The Harmony of Parts contains some important life lessons – especially when it seems that there will always be individuals who look down on others – whether it be through the lens of homophobia, anti-immigrant sentiment, racial and ethnic discrimination – just to name a few biases. The book ends with John’s refrain that he signed off with for more than forty-five years: “Learn from yesterday, live for today, dream for tomorrow, but most important, be your dream.”
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Janet Mason, author 
Living in the Layers — #LGBT life and literature #commentary on This Way Out
Posted in LGBT Book Reviews, tagged book reviews, Janet Mason, Janet Mason author, John Garabedian, lesbian, Lesbian book reviewer, lesbian commentary, lgbt, LGBT comentary, radio, Syndicated LGBTQ radio, Tea Leaves, Tea Leaves a memoir of mothers and daughters, The Harmony of Parts, This Way Out on October 8, 2017| Leave a Comment »
Note: a version of this review is being aired this week on the international LGBTQ radio syndicate This Way Out, headquartered in Los Angeles. To listen to the entire news wrap, click here.
I was having a spirited, if heated, debate with an older colleague of mine on the bus in New York City. She was insisting that by looking at life through a queer lens, that I was limiting myself. My voice got louder as I explained that when I listened to her advice, I felt erased.
Another woman on the bus – who apparently had been listening intently — interrupted us to tell us that we were almost at our stop.
I said to myself that I understand that not everyone gets everything. So I decided that nothing gay was going to pass my lips for the next several hours. We went to our meeting in Harlem and then on the way back, as the bus detoured around the Puerto Rican Day Parade, my colleague got into a conversation with a woman sitting in the seat in front of us. The conversation led from the detour to the list of parades that the woman – a lifelong New Yorker – talked about. She was blasé and ended by mentioning the [quote] gay parade. I simply smiled. But my colleague muttered, “isn’t anyone normal anymore?”
The woman she was talking to – who was probably in her sixties somewhere between our two ages – looked at her calmly and said, “Anyone can start a parade. All you need is a permit. You can start your own parade.”
At this point, I still remained silent. But my suppressed laughter nearly propelled me into the aisle. Fortunately our stop was soon. As I disembarked, I remarked to myself that the world really has changed. Ten years ago, I would have had to contend with both of them being homophobic.
My colleague and I have since gone our separate ways. But the fact is that she initially had a point – even if my ire got the best of me. All of us – who identify as LGBTQ – lead multi-layered lives. I was reminded of this when I read John Garabedian’s book, aptly titled, The Harmony of Parts. Written with Ian Aldrich, the book was published in 2016 by Orange Frazer Press.
I learned a few things from reading the book. One was about the radio industry. John was a top forty radio jock en route to his dream of owning his own station – a goal which he reached and after that took a foray into television. I thought about his statement that baby boomers wanted music that was not only good but a reflection of their social values. This statement is true.
John is Armenian-American, the son of an Armenian immigrant mother who taught him to pursue his dreams. John is also bisexual. And both of these identities made him feel different growing up. Also, he writes about growing up in an earlier era when masculinity was different:
“Back then, fathers weren’t expected to be affectionate. There was a certain ‘manhood’ they had to live up to. Get a good job, provide for your family, keep to yourself. Men didn’t hug or show affection back then, it was regarded as queer. Not a lot of ‘I love you.” Oh sure, I thought he loved me. I know he was proud of me, but he never felt comfortable saying those things. It just wasn’t in him to be affectionate. He didn’t feel it was manly.”
The book illustrates that radio is an extremely volatile industry. Many of John’s positions ended abruptly. At least in one instance John was fired from a radio show because people – specifically advertisers – found out that he was in a same-sex relationship.
John started his radio career in the late 1950s and early 1960s, around the same time he fell in love with another man. He writes, “Clearly I was in love, but uptight and timid about letting the world know about it. In 1961, homosexuals were generally regarded as perverts, rapists, and child molesters. Any sexual act outside of heterosexual intercourse in the missionary position was illegal in Massachusetts as a ‘crime against nature’ and punishable with serious jail time. I still did care what the world saw and what it thought of me. But I worried about what Joe thought, too, I didn’t want him thinking that I was a wimp.”
This is a book about many things – about pursuing your dreams and how family can be a strong part of the drive that is necessary as well as offering love and support. It is also a book about the radio industry and musicians he interviewed and how their music can change the world. I’m a big fan of the gay-icon Lady Gaga and, in full disclosure, was pulled in by her back cover blurb that, “If it weren’t for John Garabedian, no one in America would know who I am.”
It is also a book about honesty and passion and how that, too, fuels us. But most of all it is a book about a multi-layered life.
The Harmony of Parts contains some important life lessons – especially when it seems that there will always be individuals who look down on others – whether it be through the lens of homophobia, anti-immigrant sentiment, racial and ethnic discrimination – just to name a few biases. The book ends with John’s refrain that he signed off with for more than forty-five years: “Learn from yesterday, live for today, dream for tomorrow, but most important, be your dream.”
Read Full Post »