New Times: Why a gay old folks' home?
Vern Johnson: I've always been in the health-care business, and I've heard for years about how older gay people were having to go back into the closet to get retirement services. Yesterday I toured with a couple from Sun City, two elderly gay men, and they were talking about their friend who was in a retirement facility, and how they can't go to see him anymore because he's afraid if he has only male visitors, they're all gonna know he's gay.
NT: But he is gay. Why does that matter, in terms of this guy's health care?
Johnson: What you have to consider is that a retirement community is a community. It's not just an apartment. You have congregate meals; you have activities. You want to be accepted, and you're back in high school again -- it's that same sort of a scene. You've got the popular boy, you've got the nerds, all the other folks. And you have to fit in, otherwise you're ostracized.
NT: So you have to lie about who you are if you're an old guy living in an enclosed community, so your neighbors won't hate you.
Johnson: Well, I wouldn't. But if you're 80 years old, and you grew up in a different generation, you know what I'm saying? It's a generational thing. That's why I felt there was a need for this. It always seemed a travesty when you lived your life as an out gay person and then, to get health care or other services you need to exist, you have to hide your sexuality. I always felt we could change that.
NT: Do you suppose gay septuagenarians are the last generation of people who will feel that being closeted is a necessity?
Johnson: I don't know. I hope so. I hope [Calamus] will make a difference toward that. I'm hopeful, because we're sort of in the middle of this Fab Five thing now; even my mother is picking up the phone and saying, "Oh, you gotta watch Queer Eye for the Straight Guy." She's in her 70s, and she came down here to look at the facility the other day. And she said, "Now, can I live here? I'm not a lesbian, but I don't think old lesbians have sex anyway. Can't I just move in?"
NT: What did you tell her? I mean, can straight people live here?
Johnson: Of course. We can't discriminate. But we're being very clear that we're a gay and lesbian facility, that that's the market we're going after.
NT: And you're thinking that probably elderly heterosexuals won't want to live here among a lot of old fruits.
Johnson: I don't know, but if they do, come on in! I've heard a lot of different things, and it's still early. But we want to be a gay and lesbian facility.
NT: Well, what are you going to do -- ask for proof at the door? "Show me your gay card, or you can't come in!"
Johnson: (Laughs.) I know. But we put it right on the cover of our brochure that we're trying to create a gay facility here. I did a lot of research, and I found that gay men tend to live in central Phoenix, but lesbians live everywhere -- from Apache Junction to Sun City West. So I felt it was important to create a facility that was close to the bars, because my research showed me that gay seniors get the majority of their socialization from the bars. Gay men and bars -- there's that relationship.
NT: Which promotes the notion that gay people can't exist without a bar to hang out in; that gays have to have special little segregated places to hide out in. You have a bar here at Calamus, which seems unusual for a retirement community.
Johnson: It wasn't part of my initial business plan, but the bar was here when we bought the building, so I thought, "Why not open it?"
NT: It always comes down to bars.
Johnson: But that's part of the gay life.
NT: Oh, God. No. It isn't. Don't you think there are more homos who don't go to bars than those who do? I think that's just a stereotype, like limp wrists or having a superb fashion sense. Anyway, is there really a preponderance of lost, homeless gay old people?