Frank Ocean and Anderson Cooper…shall we compare and contrast?

Frank Ocean at 19 was falling madly, malignantly in love. Anderson Cooper at 19 was interning at the CIA.

Frank Ocean grew up in swampy, sticky, tasty New Orleans. Anderson Cooper grew up in a Vanderbilt palace.

Frank Ocean’s love made him “want to create worlds that were rosier than mine. I tried to channel overwhelming emotion.”  For Anderson Cooper, “in a perfect world, I don’t think it’s anyone’s business.”

Anderson Cooper says did not come out earlier because “I try to blend in as much as possible…”  (?… with a 5-person camera & sound crew?).  And then when he did come out, Anderson Cooper gave the story to conservative commentator Andrew Sullivan.

I’m not drawing the distinction in order to hate on Anderson Cooper.  He’s cute when he gets the giggles on air. And he showed some emotion when he reported from New Orleans post-Katrina.  I’m glad he came out, and I thought his letter was very nicely written.

Frank Ocean, on the other hand, did not come out.  In his tumblr post, he did not write anything close to “I’m gay.” It took another writer, Dream Hampton, to say clearly just what he had done. He had “shared one of the most intimate things that ever happened to you – falling in love with someone who wasn’t brave enough to love you back.”

Anderson Cooper came out, of his (very well appointed) closet.  Frank Ocean invited us in, to that place where you’re shattered by love.

And this, my dear queerfitters, is why for today, we are FrankOceanFit.

The queer in queerfit is not the Q of LGBTQ, though the Q of LGBTQ is the best approximation of a liberatory sexuality we have in our imperfect language. It’s queer as in different, strange, a little funny. It’s queerfit as in DoesNotBlendInFit.  It’s queerfit as in misfit.

Queerfit is not interested in helping you lose 15 pounds and tone your arms so you can look the kind of way that will win you some of that Anderson Cooper-esque, buttoned down, none of your business kind of love. Queerfit wants to help you find the heart and confidence you need to be able to fall into Frank Ocean’s thrown out of a plane kind of mad crush and – in the likely event that you’ve fallen in love with someone not brave enough to love you back – come out alive on the other side.

Frank Ocean reminds us what it is to fall in love.  Queerfit reminds us what it is to climb a tree, or ride a bike without training wheels. Or get knocked over by an ocean wave.  Or jump from a cliff.

Don’t wait until you’re as rich and safe as Anderson Cooper to come out. If you’ve not yet been to queerfit, join us at 10:00 Saturday mornings at the little park on Euclid Avenue, just north of the Inman Park/Reynoldstown MARTA station.  And if you have been to queerfit, whether once or dozens of times, do your own little Frank Ocean and invite someone in. Someone quirky, someone who does not blend in, someone queer. See y’all tomorrow!