Tuesday, August 26, 2008

The Kitchen and the Woodpile

Nothing much happening, so no blog posts. But I must give you something...

There seems to be something parallel in this situation: Here we have same-sex marriage in California, and in the same year the Democrats have both an African-American and a woman candidate stumping for president. Is this the dawning of the Age of Aquarius? Ya think? But, hold your horses; now we have the Democratic National Convention, and everyone seems terribly upset, even with all these good liberal vibes invigorating the country.

But Denver's filled with girly-man whiny-babies (as our esteemed governor would say). Can't we just enjoy this watershed moment for America?

The Clintons are acting like prima donnas (which is probably their normal behavior; after all, they are the self-appointed royalty of liberal America and the Democratic party. Never mind that Bill stabbed the LGBT community in the back numerous times after courting our support in two elections). Everyone at the convention has their nose out of joint about something: Just get it together and unite behind the black guy! This gives Operation Get Behind the Darkie a whole new meaning (see "South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut"). What's so freaking hard about party unity?

I think white Middle America still has a problem with voting for a black person. I suspect a lot of Hilary's loyalists are willing to go over to McCain just because they don't want a black man in the White House. And they don't want gays to marry because it's just not right; no real reason, they just want to keep us where we are. People do have a driving need to create "others" in their world.

To be honest, I haven't seen a minute of the TV coverage of the convention. I was commuting home last night while it was on, and I'm afraid I have to report that Steve has little to no interest in watching. (I know this will break my mother's heart; she's a real convention freak. The up side is that's perhaps the worst thing about him.)

The Hollywood Reporter has people in Denver, but there's scant coming out of the convention from them. We're even having trouble getting photos. Is this a nonhappening?

But next week we get the Republican convention, and then things will return to normal: women to the kitchen, colored folks to the woodpile (or somewhere where they won't been obtrusive or even noticed, just like the gays and handicapped and people who aren't white and/or upwardly mobile and/or just plain rich) and the heterosexual men will take over and decide what's best for all those "others" they're so fond of leading.

I love American politics.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Yummy, Yummy, Yummy

"I've got love in my tummy."

The lyrics are repulsive, I know, the song idiotic, but doesn't it make a cute headline and lead? (No?) In any case, I do have an inner glow of late.

It's from a kind of flow I've been feeling in the last week since all the ceremony and celebration. My coworker Darah put it nicely: "Being married just feels different, doesn't it?"

Yes, it does.

It's not just the ring sitting eternally on your finger. It's not all the people fawning over you when they find out. It's just something that vibrates while you're sitting together with your spouse at home, or looking at him/her across a restaurant table. It's an intangible thing: It's marriage.

I'm not being sucky or saccharine about this.

I'm realizing that if a right's denied to you, you never really experience it. Being able to marry the person I love has opened a whole world of human experience that I'm just starting to sense, something most people take for granted and have shared for a lifetime.

Which I guess is a good way to explain why the right to marry is so important. A domestic partnership is a legal arrangement, a privilege doled out by the state like your driver's license, but marriage is a condition that completes us as human beings. It fosters so many good human qualities and I suspect it provides this flow I feel. It's much pleasanter than routine, and it makes routine even more endurable.

Wait. Maybe this is sucky and saccharine.

I don't care. It's really nice. It's a very nice feeling of inclusion, both internal and external, that I've never felt before.

I'm sure it wears off after a while, this inner glow, this flow; but the marriage stays. And so does he.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Pickup Entry

I promised a piece about my week off before the wedding, so I'm making good. First, we start with a picture of my brother Steve and myself. He hit me over the head with a pogo stick when we were kids (not on purpose) and cut my face open with a ballpoint pen (not on purpose, either). Amazingly, I don't detect guilt issues in either one of us. We see each other every few years and have deep and profound discussions. I like hanging out with him because he makes me feel smart.

Here I am with "the girls," as I like to call them, because every gay man should have someone he calls "the girls," and I prefer mine to actually be girls. This is, from left, Amanda, Pam, me and Emily at the Grover Beach train station. Actually, it all began on Monday, Aug. 4...

Steve and the girls (doesn't that sound great?) flew into LAX from Wisconsin. They took the FlyAway bus from the airport into Union Station. I took the Gold Line in from Pasadena and met them at Patsouras Plaza (the modern end of Union Station where the buses come in), then we all took the Amtrak Surfliner train up to Grover Beach for a visit with the moms and others.

Tuesday we went to Pismo Beach, had clam chowder and bought some shells (I got a really nice one for Steve [my Steve]). I only stayed until Tuesday afternoon and came back to L.A. on the train, since I had to get ready for the license-getting and wedding-doing on Thursday and Friday, respectively.

Well, we have lots written about that, so I'll skip to Saturday, when Steve and I actually did some grocery shopping (but not enough) and watched a DVD before heading down to Olvera Street, which is the historic center of Los Angeles and happens to be across the street not only from Union Station, but also from the hotel at which Steve et al., were overnighting before jumping the FlyAway to LAX and a return to Wisconsin.

Dinner was at El Paseo Inn, which is a restaurant that's been on Olvera Street forever. Mom, sister Kittie and her husband David drove down just for the dinner, which was really touching for me (you know how I hate to drive). Robin and Evan (refer to wedding entries) also joined us.

The appetizer platters were excellent but the mole sauce (a wedding meal staple) was pedestrian. There were 13 in the party and the waiter didn't seem to know how to deal with that many people. Also Dave Willmon, a longtime friend of Steve's (which doesn't mean what it used to) attended with his new(ish) wife, so the party devolved into several jabbering groups (which every good party should do).

We all broke up around 10; Amanda and Emily wanted to go drinking. Cousin Robin wanted to join them. Me, I had to get home and get ready for a workday on Sunday.

We had loads of fun and are considered it a dry run for the reception we're planning for next spring. More on that as it develops. (Note to self: Hawaiian shirt/Tiki theme may not be that tacky after all.)

Sunday, August 10, 2008

My Turn

I wanted to put some of my thoughts about our wedding down on "paper" also. This past week has shown me that I should never sell life short. I have had the most amazing experience of my life. Since I met Mark I have not only found the love of my life, but a new family and support system as well. Ever since I first met Mark's family, I have been accepted, loved and been included in their lives. Since we have been together there have been mostly good times with a couple of not-so-good times thrown in for seasoning (see posts on my last job.)

This past week has been the highlight (so far) of my journey with Mark. Today I feel truly at peace. Friday I married the man of my dreams.........that's right...MARRIED. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would ever get married. Today I am. I am looking forward to a life of happiness with the Love of my life (I'm sure there will be some downs also....I'm not completely deluded) but know that whatever comes along we will be able to face events together. I still have a little trouble realizing that we are a team. Mark reminds me occasionally that I am still thinking "single". He is absolutely correct. I spent do much of my life doing for myself that after three years together I still fall back into old habits once in a while. I guess growth is part of the journey.

Our wedding on Friday changed my whole perception of what being together is all about. At the dinner/reception we had last night I commented to Mark's cousin, Robin, that even though we had the Registered Domestic Partnership thing going on, it still felt like Marriage-Lite. Now I feel completely joined with Mark and his life. I signed up with a great organization that is working to maintain the right to same-sex marriage. It is called LetCaliforniaRing.org.

If you get a chance, check it out.

I guess I had better get back to doing laundry, but I wanted to post my happiness, as well as my hope for a bright future for all of us.

The picture I am attaching pretty well sums up how I feel today.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Get Me to the Park On Time

Well, it's official: Beuford has two daddies. So do the cats, Buddy and Marcel, but since they consider us house servants, I suppose it doesn't mean much to them. Steve and I were both nervous, but it was a going-to-Disneyland-for-the-first-time nervous and not a having-major-surgery nervous.

It happened Friday, which was 8-8-08. Supposedly a lucky day to get married. We took the appointment because it was available, but it did end up being lucky, and we all had a great time.

Steve and I picked up John (his best man) in South Pasadena and we drove to West Hollywood, where the service took place. A block and a half from City Hall in a little pocket park called Kings Road Park, the coordinator and officiant were waiting. We had decided on a theme of Hawaiian shirts, since it was easy to pull off and the weather was hot. It turned out to be a great success, with everyone coordinating and blending into the lush green of the park.

Cousin Robin (my best man) and her husband Evan (to whom we are indebted for the photos) had arrived a few minutes before us and had gone up the street to get bananas at Gelson's market. (I don't know if this had anything to do with the fact that she had bananas on her print dress or not.)

We filled out the final paperwork (keeping inside the boxes, which seemed extremely important to the county government), then found the small flowered arch set up in the back of the park for the ceremonies. Our officiant was Lunita Bock (normally the HR manager for the city), and after a few questions, we had a short, sweet ceremony. When we exchanged rings, I put out my right hand but caught the mistake in time. (this is what the reheasal is for, I guess), and in no time at all, we were married people. Everybody cried at some point, but not to the point of disrupting the ceremony.

Afterwards, the five of us went to the French Market just up the street on Santa Monica where Robin and Evan presented us with a wedding gift of a pair of lovely champagne flutes from Tiffany's. We all had a late lunch and lots of fun gab. John was definitely taken with Robin and Evan, and said so repeatedly on the ride back to South Pasadena.

We spent the rest of the day kicking back and getting used to the feel of the rings on our fingers. I've never been one for wearing jewelry, but this ring is so comfortable. It fits very nicely, and it feels natural wearing it. I do have to say I'm thankful I couldn't legally get married 20 or 30 years ago, because I would have been divorced at least once by this point. I'm glad it happened when I was in love with someone who I know is a really great part of my life, and I want to keep him in it forever.

So far I haven't seen any heterosexual marriages suffering because of our own wedded bliss. I think that's a fear that folks will soon realize was totally unfounded. If anything, same-sex marriage will help bolster the institution which so many feel so compelled to protect from the queer nation.

This evening is a reception of sorts at El Paseo Inn on Olvera Street in Los Angeles. I chose it because of its proximity to the hotel where Brother Steve and family are overnighting before their return to Wisconsin (a blog about my visit with them on the Central Coast will follow soon). It seems appropriate, since what was a dinner for them has morphed into a reception dinner for us. And since Olvera Street is the birthplace of Los Angeles, it seems fitting as the start of what will become a California tradition in no time at all: Rejoicing that we all have the same rights and freedoms.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Vacation, Unused Pix

This is the first official day of my vacation week. Normally I would be in at work today, but here I sit at home. We just watched the last of our Netflix movies for the week ("The Bucket List") and are upstairs doing office type things like paying bills. I downloaded variouos pictures from my iPhone that I had taken and meant to use in blogs, but never got around to writing them. This first one is a shot of jacaranda. Did you know they have bipinnate leaves and panicles of showy usually blue flowers? It's true; Merriam-Webster says so.

Tomorrow (Monday) I will be meeting my brother Steve and his wife Pam, daughter Emily (and maybe other-daughter Amanda) at Union Station. They're coming into LAX from Wisconsin, and we will all be taking the train up to Arroyo Grande for a visit. Hopefully, I'll remember to take lots of pictures to share here. If I'm true to form, though, I'll probably forget to until the last 20 minutes of the visit, and everything will be posed. I come back on Tuesday to get ready Wednesday to go to West Hollywood on Thursday to get the marriage license for the ceremony on Friday. (Am I obsessed with this or what?) On Saturday we'll all get together at Olvera Street for a reception/goodbye dinner for Steve and I and Steve and Pam and the girl(s).

Okay. Here's another picture; an interior of the Red Line subway train (well, actually, the Purple Line subway train, but they're all the same color. I know it's confusing, which is why a lot of people who want to go to North Hollywood on the Red Line end up at Wilshire and Western, the terminus of the Purple Line). This is the the subway I take to work every morning (except when I'm on vacation, like now). It seems very empty but that's because I had just gotten on at Wilshire and Western. Within a few stops, the train was packed with people. During rush hours, all trains and buses are pretty much standing room only, and it's not unusual to have to wait for the next bus or train to even get on.

And finally, a shot of the headquarters of IndyMac Bank, which was recently taken over by the government because of insolvency. It's just a couple blocks from our house here in Pasadena. Who says you have to go to Wall Street in New York City to see the failure of the American economy?

I'm starting to get excited because I just realized that I'm going to have to pack a bag for tomorrow, and that I'll be seeing the Wisconsin quarter of the clan very soon. Whenever I visit with my brother Steve (who is a political science professor), we talk about very complex and profound things, and I always end up feeling terribly intelligent just being able to keep up; it I make a joke he likes, I feel like an insightful genius.

I'd better sign off: my Steve is sitting at his computer playing Super Collapse, which means he's probably bored and waiting for me to finish, and so I shall.