The snobbery of the place, which was considerable, had to do not with old notions of class but with the relative distribution of up-to-the-minute high taste in dress, decor, and opinion.
Most of the houses there-they were high-grade beach shacks really-were informally well-appointed and by the standards of the day expensive. Though we didn’t yet have a name for the phenomenon, the community was distinctly a “new-class” enclave: on the whole young, affluent, enlightened, and breezy in both its styles and attitudes. In the years that we all summered there, Fire Island Pines was, at a rough count, about sixty percent homosexual. These were the heterosexuals (in the current parlance of homosexual/heterosexual relations, the “straights”) who, along with me and my family, used to spend summers in a seaside resort community called Fire Island Pines. When the homosexual-rights movement first burst upon the scene a little more than a decade ago, a number of people I used to know must have been-as I was myself-more than a little astonished.
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