I suspect that this will be a rather uncomfortable weekend at the Ted Haggard tax-free mansion. You see, Reverend Haggard is a vociferous spokesperson against gay marriage and, until yesterday, his wife probably had no idea she was actually in one.
Oh, I can hear some of you gals used to being around florists and Governors of New Jersey -- and Texas -- cackling. You think I'm selling the woman's intuition for pushily obvious queenery short. But if Haggard's unblinking congregation could sit and listen to such a liturgical Liberace week after week and not realize they were in the presence of someone who makes Barry Manilow in a full-length mink look butch, they really need to recalibrate their ability to detect prescription-strength doses of flamboyance. Because if you can't tell that Haggard is not just gay, but marabou mules wearing gay, you must have bought your refurbished Gaydar at the same kiosk Tom Cruise got his E-meter.