Back in 2009, my wife Sophie and I spent a few nights in London for the celebration of what would’ve been Kirsty MacColl’s 50th birthday. After a brief singalong at Kirsty’s bench in Soho Square, we adjourned to a basement bar where most everyone got very drunk. Sophie and I were too shy to talk to anyone, and we sat in a corner by ourselves while the crowd broke off into teams to take a Kirsty trivia quiz. That’s when a smiling gray-haired Irishman wandered over and asked us if we were in a cult.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“You two aren’t taking the quiz or talking to anybody, so I figured you must be in a cult or something,” he said.
I assured him we weren’t in a cult, and we started talking. His name was Vincent Creelan, an ex-cop from Belfast and self-described “Kirsty husband,” who’d come along at the behest of his partner David McCauley. 1He pointed out something I never realized but now seems obvious — that Kirsty MacColl is beloved amongst gay men. With the exception of Kirsty’s sons, I might’ve been the only straight guy there. Vincent, Sophie and I spoke for a while and have stayed in touch off and one since then.
Yesterday I learned that Vincent and his partner David have won a five-year battle with the Police Service of Northern Ireland against the force’s institutionalized homophobia. Continue Reading →
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|1.||↵||He pointed out something I never realized but now seems obvious — that Kirsty MacColl is beloved amongst gay men. With the exception of Kirsty’s sons, I might’ve been the only straight guy there.|