Gaydar Love - effects of technological innovations on society - Brief Article - Column

A Canadian entrepreneur--two words you just don't hear enough in tandem--recently patented a small pocket device that can be carried by gay men to detect the presence of other gay men. Instead of a well-placed handkerchief, pinky ring, or rainbow decal, the little wonder picks up signals the guys are giving off. The device can also be set to "female" for lesbo-detection. Gender equity has long been a hallmark of the Canadian psyche.

When the gizmo is activated by an electronic impulse from another, a beep sounds or a light blinks. One hopes that in future design requirements, a vibrating function will be added, not only for the pleasure principle, but also for noise abatement amidst the already deafening racket of the Cellulites.

"Hey, is that a cell phone in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?"

Demonstrating that he has learned from H. Ty Warner, the marketing genius behind the Beanie Baby craze, the Canadian entrepreneur will not ship his invention until 40,000 units are sold over the Net in selected markets. He claims this is so a gay man will not be further traumatized to discover that, given his new device, he is still the only gay person in the room.

The developer has been stymied thus far, not by any technical difficulties but by trademark problems. The rights to the name "Gaydar" are in dispute in this domain-crazed world. So let me offer some optional names for the homo-homing box: Yamagaychi, Beanie Gaybies, Tickle Me Homo, or Dirty Chatty Kathy.

Of course, I'm old fashioned enough to worry that this gadget will fall into the wrong hands and that more violence will be done to gay men and lesbians. Please don't give one to Jesse "The Boil" Helms.

I've always felt like I was born into the wrong century. With new developments like this in the past few months, I've been feeling twice as lost. But now I'm trying to change my mainframe; I'm seeing this as an opportunity to be as out of it as I thought my parents were.

Despite my occasional dismay, "We remain enthralled," to quote the Pope at the recent Vatican Jubilee 2000.

I do. I have no choice. I never would have thought that a widget would replace a wink, that a huge online business would be called Amazon.com, that Larry King would find the groove thing of David Crosby's sperm, or that ABC's Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? would do more to normalize gays in America than anything else in the last few years. Regis Philbin is our Rosa Parks?

The sun never sets on the AOL/Time Warner empire. ABC's twenty-five-hour coverage of the dawn of the new millennium presaged the empire's reach like some global stadium wave. Since the merger announcement, I've had nothing but problems. So many people in my Time Warner quadrant tuned into the premiere of The Sopranos, that lovable, dysfunctional Mafia family (as opposed to other unlovable, but fully functional Mafia families), that the cable system went down like the drop in water pressure during Super Bowl halftime.

Near-fatal errors have occurred in my e-mail. Someone posing as me broke up with a friend of mine, who remains oddly hurt despite my gentle reminders that we never dated.

To remedy the problem, I had to contact the "AOL Community Action Team." I have not gotten through yet. In fact, I wrote this entire article while on hold. I now know what "the thrill of hope" is that makes the weary world rejoice. It's when you are on hold, listening to the banal whine of Kenny G., and the music suddenly stops. The thrill is in that nanosecond of quiet when you sense you will finally talk to an actual person--before the hope is dashed by another voice that begins, "Thank you for calling AOL. All our representatives are currently helping other customers."

Kate "The Broad in Broadband" Clinton is a humorist.

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