PROP EIGHT BITES THE DUST

I just heard that the California courts have repealed Prop 8. Clank the glasses and start the music. Why do I care, some may ask? As a little girl, I never wanted Barbie's wedding ensemble. I've never purchased "Bride's" magazine in order to moon over the ensembles. Ugly bride's-maids dresses have never quite been my thing; I have worn enough chiffon and mint green in my lifetime, thank you very much. Not once at these festive gatherings have I stood gathered in hopes of catching that bouquet.  It would be easier to go through life if  I could have that Goodhouse Keeping stamp of approval with gifts galore and the welcome wagon at my door. I happen to value the ability to curl up with a good book when I feel like it. Besides, I have jealous cats.

We still have areas in this country where gay people don't feel safe walking down the street holding hands.  Bashing still happens, or name calling or "looks."  People have been asked to leave restaurants and Bed and Breakfasts.   There are cities that are blessed with their open mindedness, yet there are also people who would take their time to drive their to harass. In my town there's one woman who persists on writing letters to the editor decrying the downfall of Western Civilization perpetrated by the "homosexual agenda" and "immigrants." Given her very non-aboriginal sounding, Van-Something  name, I dare say the lady doth protest too much. I wonder if she lets out gasps of indignation when the older couple next door walks to the mail box hand-in-hand. Yet, by her definition, when two men do this they are pushing their beliefs onto others. I once worked with an individual with whom one could not discuss this issue in a reasonable manner, yet he'd persist in bringing it up. His rationale always fell back onto the tired line, "God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve." Even when he was an acting supervisor he'd violate the code on discussing religion by bringing this up with brand new staff. Mind you, his wife was so stupid that she honestly called work one night when one of his sons had climbed a tree to ask what she should do. Those kinds of guys like them dumb.

People marched on Washington to state that laws were wrong. Until the late l960's, there were places where a black man and a white woman could not marry. Had the courts not intervened, those laws would have stayed on the books in some areas. I think Pierre Trudeau put it most eloquently when he stated that the state has no business in the bedrooms of the nation.

A number of years ago I was in the city when I ran into a guy I used to bowl with. We were on the same team for years. We went out to eat and caught up. He told me that he wanted to thank me for something. He them recounted an event which I had totally forgotten about but had meant the world to him. Darren had been on the drama team in junior high. He was a very talented individual. He was also teased mercilessly. Cars would slow as he walked along the street and idiot jocks would lean out and toss the "f" bomb. You know the word. At the bowling league, there was one group of guys that were ruthless towards him. Years later, Darren remembered how I stood up one day and called them out---how I told them off in front of everybody. I guess it mattered so much to him that a person would speak out in a public forum and state that it was wrong.

Ultimately, what the courts in California just did is the same thing. They said that this has to stop. It is wrong to hate a person based on something over which they have no control. It's like hating me because my hair is blond. What does it matter? Judge me for who I am as a person.

My Dad absolutely grasped this concept. My Dad wouldn't know what the ACLU was, yet he understood the inherent wrongness of homophobia. I realized two Christmases ago what an insightful and openminded man my father is. We were all about to sit down to eat when somebody brought up my neighbour's name. He had recently split from his boyfriend and he was alone. He and my mother do a lot of things together. In an instant, somebody was on the phone and he was invited over. After everybody else had gone to bed, he and my Dad were drinking Brandy until three in the morning. After he had gone home, my Dad and I talked for a while. Nobody in my family has ever talked about anything related to "the birds and bess". We've never had "the talk." But Dad said that he didn't care who our neighbour chose to date. He only cared that he was a good person. I guess that about sums it up. Why did it take so long for the learned judges in the courts to come to that conclusion?