New York, NY - Aug. 22, 12:47 p.m.: My parents have a few issues with me (more issues than Sports Illustrated to be honest). Many of them remain unresolved. But no issue gets my mom talking about how great a football player I could have been or my dad running to go rake the leaves like the issue of...well, what 'team' I'm on. I like to leave it out there, play around with it, see what happens - the issue that is. This year it reached a fever pitch when I tapped my wine glasses at Christmas dinner and told everybody I had something very important to say. I looked right at my mom...paused..."I really like that sweater Mom. Where did you get it?". Disaster averted, sort of. Dad looking woozy, got up to go to the bathroom and never came back. Mom laughed nervously (the kind of nervous that only comes when you fart on a first date) and suggested we skip dessert and go watch some wrestling on TV. Frankly, I find the whole thing funny. I mean, when have I ever looked gay?