Yes We Did

I woke up to an email of congratulations from a dear friend in Ireland. The hope that rides with Obama's presidency (!) stretches across the globe. Our first glimmer of hope that we may have a place at the table of the new world order - that we may in fact not be the pack of raving idiots the last eight years often made us appear to be to the eyes of the world.

I find it very telling that at the McCain party, when he mentioned Obama there were boos and jeers from the hateful, infantile audience. Meanwhile, at the Obama party, when he mentioned McCain there was respectful applause. Here's to the party of classy, educated grown-ups being in the White House. Bring on the arugula.

I know we have an uphill battle. We have angry white supremacists (hello idiots, he's half white) and bible beaters that will be doing everything to bring Obama down. I have a family member who quoted that Obama was a Palestinian Muslim. Who knows what other ridiculousness the hater propaganda machine will churn out over the next four years.

I'm so relieved I don't have to move to Canada to escape a looming Palin. I don't like cold weather.

It's my sincere hope that the new White House puppy be a mutt from the pound.

Happy new America Wednesday, everyone.

Campaign Management

My eyes pop open at 5:30. Sure, I always wake up early but today I am on a mission that needs to be carried out in the cover of darkness.

Last night, I’d run into a fellow dog-walking neighbor. She was a lady I’d always liked. Part of the old Hollywood guard. She’d met her husband on the summer stock circuit back when she was a sassy redhead driving a new convertible ’57 Bel Air. Now her hair was still a flame red but in sparse chemical patches, covering the white.

We walked our dogs together through the hills in the fading golden LA twilight and chit-chatted about nothing in particular. Then we rounded a corner and saw it.

“Goodness,” she exclaimed, “A ‘Yes on 8’ sign. I haven’t seen one of those in this neighborhood.”

I too was stunned. Proposition 8 is our local initiative to take rights away from gays. Hollywood being legendarily liberal, you don’t see much right wing signage around to be sure.

As a talented friend points out in her ‘No on 8’ promo spots, 8 is the first proposition since prohibition that seeks to take rights away from people. I am naturally against it. Then I think of my gay friends and family – many of whom are married to each other – and can’t imagine a world without their unions being allowed. My uncle and his husband serve as the best example we have in our family of a healthy partnership and lasting love. They’ve been together longer than any of the hetero couples in our family. And their care and regard for each other is clear in their communication and they way they work through life’s issues together.

My father-in-law to-be, an old-school European gentleman, growled that gays shouldn’t be allowed to marry and adopt because the kids will get made fun of and that will be hard on them. I shot back with a litany of my own childhood teasings including my height, the way I sat in my chair and being ostracized for wearing the wrong brand of jeans. Kids will find something to pick on no matter who your parents are. What a gift to be raised by two loving parents rather than an abusive home or even a struggling single parent household.

Local right wingers and many shipped in from Utah tried to scare voters with ‘Yes on 8’ campaigns that stated ‘gay marriage will be taught in schools and your kids will be corrupted.’ What? Since when is marriage taught in schools at all? And how is expanding kids’ minds about the differences of the world corrupting? This bigoted lie was quickly shot down but I was sure there was a base of haters that was still clinging to it.

My friend’s promo spots end with the tag line: “Don’t be a douche, vote no on 8” and I could help but agree. Who, but a complete douche could vote yes on 8? It doesn’t hurt you or take away from you in any way. All it does it hurt others.

Beyond douche – straight up bigot was more like it. As my dog-walking friend and I took in the ‘Yes on 8’ sign, BIGOT was the only word flashing through my mind.

“I’m just surprised to see that sign here,” she murmured.

“I know,” I agreed, “what complete bigots!”

“What? Oh no, that’s not bigoted.” Now I was double-shocked and then I remembered the Bush/Cheney sticker on her Volvo as she continued: “I’m voting yes on 8.”

“Buy WHY?” I couldn’t help myself.

“I believe in the sanctity of marriage,” she punctuated the sentence with a raise of her patrician nose.

At this point I figured I’d better reign in the argument or we’d cease to be friends all together. “Let’s agree to disagree on this.” I offered. You have your sanctity, I thought. How does someone else having theirs hurt you in any way? Two people who love each other and want to make a life together should be allowed to marry. Period. End of subject. I bit my tongue. I figured it’s kind of like that pro-choice argument: if you are against abortion, don’t have one. Leave others to make what choice works for them. Why do people feel the need to legislate the lives of others?

We finished our walk with awkward, inane small talk and said goodbye at the corner. My solace was that my neighbor’s point of view would, with any luck, die out with her generation.

But I couldn’t leave it at that. It was blatantly offensive and bigoted to have that sign out. To me, it was akin to posting a KKK sign in your front yard. I had to do something.

The clock clicks to 5:31. In the cover of darkness, I scoot out of bed. I should be more tired but I’m adrenalized. I dress quickly in all black and sit at my desk where I make a sign with black and red markers.

“HATEFUL BIGOTS” it reads. I consider it for a moment. I worry about getting caught. Maybe the ‘HATEFUL’ is too much. Was this kind of statement free speech or vandalism? Could I be arrested? I cut the ‘HATEFUL’ off the paper, leaving just ‘BIGOTS’.

I’m worrying more now about possible repercussions. I cover my fingertips in tape so I won’t leave prints and cover the front of my page with packing tape. This way I’ll be able to smack it on the front of the ‘Yes on 8’ sign and they won’t be able to pull it off without ruining the sign. They’ll have to take the offensive sign down.

I grab my dog and off we go. It will be light soon and we have to hurry. My dog is surprised as I drag him past his favorite potty spots. My pulse pounds as I near the corner where the bigot house sits. I can still back out of this, I think. I can just throw the sign away - leave them with their hater mind set, no risk to me. No, I decide, I have to do this.

I round the corner. In the darkness, I can barely make out the backs of their cars and the plants in the front yard. Wasn’t the sign on the left? I can’t see anything. I hurry closer, straining my eyes.

Nothing. The sign is gone.

I pause for a moment looking all over. Nope, not moved to the other side. I consider taping my ‘BIGOTS’ sign to their trash can but decide that’s not exactly fair. A motion detector light flashes on and I walk on, crumpling my sign.

Maybe someone else beat me to the punch and they had to take it down. Maybe the realized how hateful their point of view was and changed their minds. Maybe. I can have hope, can’t I? I thank the universe for protecting me from whatever would have gone wrong had I carried out my plan. And I leave those haters to that same universe for reprimand.

My dog and I trot home through the rosy dawn and I look to election day when I will vote for hope. I have to trust that that statement will be powerful enough.

On the Eve of Election

This came to me today from a dear friend:

I was in Spain a few years ago when the same sex marriage law was passed

there. It really surprised me that such a conservative, Catholic country can

get such a law passed. You know how it happened? Simple. While the country is

very conservative, they are also very family oriented. Each family has or know

someone who is gay or lesbian ... and believe that they, too, should be given

equal rights to marry the person they love. It's amazing how it happened.

As such, I have come up with a simple plan to block Proposition 8 -- JUST ASK 5

( http://www.justask5.org/ ).

For the next two weeks- YOU NEED TO TELL AT LEAST 5 PEOPLE how important

this ballot is to you, and how it can impact our lives. Ask your family, your friends,

and your co workers ... tell them what NO ON PROP 8 means to you.

Because this affects you. And if they love you, they should know that supporting this

initiative is important to you!

If Proposition 8 wins, discrimination against gay people will be written into our State

Constitution for the very first time. We can't let that happen.

This measure is VERY IMPORTANT TO US ... but would the girl next to our office know

if we don't tell them? Will your 70 year old mother in Hemet know what Prop 8 is?

Does your staff know how getting out there and voting NO ON PROP 8 mean to

our constitutional rights? All it takes is to ask --- call them, email them, and lets' do

whatever we can!

You have two weeks- JUST ASK 5! http://www.justask5.org/

Friend...Or Other Party?

Just when did having different thoughts or political stances come to mean hate?

Friendship didn’t used to be partisan. I hear tell of a time when people would sit around a dinner table and affably or even heatedly discuss opposing viewpoints and it didn’t mean they hated each other. My older relatives remember having friends of different political parties. Those were just your opinions, not who you were in your heart.

These days the world seems to be much quicker to dismiss people based on politics. I don’t know too many people who are not of my same party. ‘Well why would you?” a friend snorts when I bring this up, “They’re assholes to think that way.” Listening to a political speech by a member of the opposition party, I’m hard-pressed to disagree. And that, I believe is the heart of the issue. Politics and debate in general has become intensely personal. The assessment of a person’s character now goes hand in hand with a person’s politics. Fairly – some of the time, sure, but undoubtedly unfairly much of the time.

And this loss of ability to debate and remain friends extends beyond politics.

Recently, I had a disagreement with a friend of mine. I figured we’d solve it by discussing the difference of opinion we had and go on our merry way. Instead of attacking my statements though, she attacked me as a person. I was stunned. I couldn’t understand why she was making this personal. Try as I might to keep the dispute to the business at hand, she kept pulling it back to personal insults. What had been a professional issue became indeed a personal one. I was deeply hurt but now I see it’s a sign of the times.

We’ve lost that ability to argue a point of view for the sake of eloquence that was so admirable in our preceding thinkers and scholars…even dinner guests.

Now most dinners I’ve been to lately feature a lot of intelligent, similarly-minded friends arguing the same side of things to each other. We can all agree on what assholes the other side is made up of and happily enjoy our pasta. It’s not a challenge to our beliefs or our oratory skills.

Is it because we don’t feel strong enough in our own cores anymore that we need to take differing ideals personally?

I certainly don’t have the answers but I know I don’t like this state of things. And heck, if you disagree with me, you’re an asshole.