January 25, 2011


Miguel Cane, age 1
Mexico City (1975)

This photo was taken at my first birthday party. If you look, you'll notice that even then, there is a certain "sadness" to me. This is what my friends often refer to as my 'Liv Ullmann face' - even that young.

"Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up"
This, of course, does not mean that I was always a sad child -- but most gay children grow up wounded one way or another, at least those of my generation and country did. But it's a fact that there are no pictures of me smiling.

However, I love this picture. Not only because it reveals the essence of who I am (these bouts of hope and simultaneous sorrow, the look in my eyes), but also because of the lovely clothes. I mean, what's not to love there? The frills, the flowers, the lovingly handmade suit. At least I was smartly dressed even then.

I probably had a notion of my being different, even at that age. My mother says she could tell from the moment I was able to walk. She says I was not girlish, but rather neutral and measured.

I know I was pretty well aware of the attraction to males when I was 5 and started to go to the movies alot. I was bowled over by what I saw on the screen, such as Cary Grant or Warren Beatty, especially in Splendor In The Grass, which was so revealing to me later on.

I was a film buff even as a little boy. I fell in love with the apartment sets in Rosemary's Baby, I cried my eyes out at the end of Breakfast At Tiffany's, wanted to be a Von Trapp kid, and adored the Pompeii Club where Shirl The Girl winds up in Sweet Charity. My grandfather fed me movies and gave me enormous support. He loved me just the way I was, and I like to think he knew exactly who I was when he died when I was 7.

Everybody else could tell, much to the frustration and chagrin of my father. We had an antagonistic relationship for many years, until I politely but firmly told him off, leading to a dètente between us. My Mom was often caught in the middle of the drill. She never took sides, but she was supportive.

I'm now in my mid 30's, I moved to Spain, and my mom and I get along fine. And oh yeah - I eventually became a Film Critic & Historian, to boot.

I live alone, and I don't mind. All my life I've looked for courageous, resourceful, warm, & funny men. Some that I've loved weren't that, but I have no regrets, and I don't see it as a waste. There's plenty of ways to have love in your life, and plenty more to give the love you have in yourself to others. You may not live happily ever after - there are no guarantees for that - but bear this in mind:

You can live hopefully ever after.

Miguel's first, famous-person same sex crush:
Cary Grant (in "Notorious")

The moment he kisses Ingrid Bergman and she ever-so-slightly rubs his earlobe, I felt dizzy and my knees gave way. Everything was illuminated for me


Enri. said...

Yours is a great story. Thank you for sharing. Gracias por compartir, todos tenemos historias maravillosas para nosotros que nos hicieron ser lo que somos.

Xosé Jared Galván said...

Yes, I agree ! Mucha suerte siempre en tu vida en España ! Sigue compartiendo historias que nos ayuden a abrir el corazón ! Keep sharing stories that help us to open our hearts !

La Insomne said...

Hermosas palabras para brindarnos esperanza a todos. Se puede ser feliz siempre y cuando nosotros lo decidamos así.

Abrazo enorme.

Auntie Hattie said...


your words have moved me. here is a short piece i wrote years ago about hugging Cary Grant. it is a true story! i hope you enjoy it!!!


smooch, hattie

Anonymous said...

What A beatiful story. Don´t be sad anymore, you deserve to be happy. As I watched recently in a film call "Madre Amadísima" All people deserve a room of happiness even us. TODOS TENEMOS DERECHO A NUESTRA PARCELA DE FELICIDAD, INCLUSO NOSOTRAS.

Lenny said...