Jan 23, 2004  |  By: Michael Alvea  | COMMENTS     

ROSIE’S AT IT again. It was bad enough that she refused to come out at the height of her phenomenally popular talk show. But now she’s compounding her mistake by actually defending her silence.

A few weeks ago, in an interview with Michaelangelo Signorile on Sirius Satellite Radio, Rosie wore her negligence like a badge of honor.

“While I was on [my talk] show, I would take frequent barbs or attacks or accusations or challenges, from some members of the gay community… who felt as though I wasn’t quite gay enough. … Just remember this: A lot of gay boys don’t play on sports teams, so they don’t know that when somebody’s sitting on the bench, in uniform, they’re still on your team, even though they’re not scoring the points. So don’t hurt them.”

The last time I had that much air pumped up my rear end, I was getting checked for hemorrhoids.

Not only was Rosie morally wrong for her silence, she is metaphorically incorrect in her justification. She’s making it sound like she was benched because she wasn’t good enough to play. Earth to Rosie: You were the star quarterback on the team.

If you’re going to use a sports metaphor, Rosie, then use one that isn’t so self-serving. Like this one: “I wasn’t just the best athlete on the team; I was the best one in the league. And even though the coach, my teammates and everyone who cheered for the team begged me to play, I refused. Yes, my teammates were getting battered and beaten. Yes, I could have helped us gain yardage and score a lot of points. But that would have meant taking personal risks, and I had endorsements to think about.”

WHY IS IT that the rich and powerful are incapable of owning up to their misdeeds? Why is it so hard for them to say the two words that make forgiveness so simple? (For the forgiveness-challenged, the words are, “I’m sorry.”)

Yeah, I’m pissed off. Yeah, I know the past is past. But you know what I’m sick of?

I’m sick of the rich and famous making excuses for their silence, for their unwillingness to help unless they personally profit. It’s one thing to stay in the closet when you’re on the brink of poverty. It’s another thing to stay in the closet because it might mean making $10 million a year instead of $11 million.

Rosie is a perfect example that wealth, fame and influence can buy you everything but courage.

Here’s what I wish Rosie should have said: “You know, you’re right. I screwed up. Next to Oprah, I was the hottest thing on television. I could have let my audience know the love of my life was a woman. I could have normalized the idea of same-sex love; I could have humanized gay men and women to millions of Middle Americans in non-threatening ways. I could have used the enormous goodwill that conservatives had for me to gently prod them into more compassionate views, to ease them out of their fears with my humor.

“I could have talked about my girlfriend the way Oprah talks about her boyfriend. With my popularity, I could have given parents permission to love their gay sons, to accept their lesbian daughters. I could have done all those things, but I didn’t. And for that I would like to say I’m sorry.”

BUT NO. ROSIE’S like the child who killed her parents and threw herself on the mercy of the court, claiming she was an orphan. First, she squanders the opportunity to help and now she squanders the opportunity to make up for it.

It’s important not to let Rosie off the hook on this one, because if we do then we’re teaching future Rosies that the only moral obligation they have is to their mirrors.

If we’re not willing to censure people who place personal gain over public good, then what kind of moral values are we championing?

It’s unconscionable that someone of Rosie’s stature waited so long to come out. When the powerful are silent, they teach silence to the powerful.

Don’t believe me? Two words: Mary Cheney.