What's a member of the middle-class breeding stock to do when the offspring he counted on to keep his genes in the mix seems a little ... well ... confused as to whether he's a bull or a steer? Buy the boy a guitar so he'll get some attention from the girls - maybe then he'll straighten out.

Well it didn't work for Pete Townsend ...
... and it won't work for Shawn.

It's probably because after shelling out a few hundred bucks for a third-rate ax, they have to hire someone to teach Shawn to play it - and they're not going to hire some dead-butch heavy metal weirdo, but the soft-spoken, androgynous bachelor who strums along with the choir in the local church's "granola" service on Sunday afternoons.

... and they'll never understand
why Shawn titters girlishly
when they ask him about the organ the rectory.

You think that when he started wearing leather hats, they might have gotten a clue, or maybe the limp wrist and just-poked-in-the-puddin' posture would give them the tiniest little hint. But then, considering the stubborn ignorance of your average church-goer, they'd probably never see that particular light even if Shawn ran around the house in suspenders and a man-bra.

... and do you think he won't?