What Makes It A Civil Rights Issue?

Mike Huckabee is Ignorant to Violence Against Gays



Yesterday, former Arkansas Governor and Republican Presidential Preacher Candidate Mike Huckabee was on The View. While talking about the election, Huckabee slipped in a little gem about the gay rights movement, declaring that marriage equality is not a civil right and what we are engaged is in not the same as the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s. How does he decided what defines a civil rights struggle?

Violence.

Fire hoses, beatings, police brutality, and murders defined the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s, in the eyes of Rev. Huck. According to his understanding, he made the assertion – that went unaddressed by the ladies of The View – that gay men and women just aren’t in the same struggle.

How many more gay people need to die before it becomes a “civil rights” struggle? Governor Huckabee is apprarently ignorant to the horrific recent history of violence against gay people in the United States. We don’t need to go back decades. Moses “Tiesch” Cannon was murdered last week in an anti-gay attack.

In 1973, 32 people were killed when a gay bar was set on fire in New Orleans. This was after the Civil Rights movement. After Stonewall.

In 1978, Harvey Milk – one of the first openly gay elected officials in the nation – was shot and killed in San Francisco City Hall. A bloody line of gay people follows.

In 1982, Rick Hunter and John Hanson were savagely attack outside a gay bar. ER employees testified that the police repeated called the men “queers” and “sissies” while they were being treated for their injuries.

Brandon Teena was brutally raped and murdered in 1993 because he was transgendered. His story was portrayed in the film, Boys Don’t Cry.

The Otherside Lounge was bombed by Eric Robert Rudolph in 1997. Five bar patrons were injured. Eric Robert Rudolph was the “Olympic Park Bomber” who also target a women’s health center.

In October 1998, Matthew Shepard was driven out to a remote field, savagely beaten, and left to die. His murderers capitalized on their fame with an ABC 20/20 interview during which they suddenly changed their story and claimed the murder was a robbery – despite the fact that Matthew had nothing but his shoes taken from him and his home was left undisturbed.
In 2000, Ronald Gay stormed into a gay bar in Virginia and opened fire, killing Danny Overstreet and injuring 6 others.

In 2005, three-year-old Ronnie Paris died from brain injuries. His father repeatedly bullied his son, beating him, hoping to toughen him up out of fears he would grow up to be a sissy.

In 2005, a Jamaican mob chased down an anonymous gay man. Afraid of the crowd, the man jumped into the water and drowned.

In 2006, Jacob Robida entered a gay bar in New Bedford, Massachusetts with a hatchet and attack customers. At least three sustained injuries.

Duanna Johnson, a transgender woman, was beaten and called a “faggot” and “he-she” repeatedly while in police custody in February 2008. Just this month, she was found dead, after being gunned down, lying in the street.

Lawrence King was shot dead in a classroom by a classmate in Oxnard, California in February 2008. Larry was murdered because he appeared gay and liked to wear make-up.

In case Mike Huckabee needs more violence before becoming concerned, I believe we should all remember some of these victims of anti-gay hate crimes: Terry Knudsen, 1979; Les Benscoter, 1979; Charlie Howard, 1984; Rebecca Wight, 1988; James Zappalorti, a Vietnam Veteran, 1990; Julio Rivera, 1990; Paul Broussard, 1991; Scott Amedure, 1995; Roxanne Ellis and Michelle Abdill, 1995; Jeff Whittington, 1999; PFC Barry Winchell, 1999; Gary Matson and Winfield Mowder, 1999; Steen Fenrich, 1999; Arthur “JR” Warren, 2000; Aaron Webster, 2001; Fred Martinez, 2001; Nizah Morris, 2002; Gwen Araujo, 2002; Sakia Gunn, 2003; Richie Phillips, 2003; Nireah Johnson and Brandie Coleman, 2003; Glenn Kopitske, 2003; Brian Williamson, 2004; FannyAnn Eddy, 2004; Daniel Fetty, 2004; Jason Gage, 2005; Jody Dobrowski, 2005; Michael Sandy, 2006; Roberto Duncanson, 2007; Sean William Kennedy, 2007; Steven Parrish, 2008; and Tony Randolph Hunter, 2008.

This violence comes from an attitude, a culture, that doesn’t respect or acknowledge gay people. When preachers like Mike Huckabee don’t value our relationships or individual humanity, his followers are left to interpret what is righteous. The slippery slope leads to a dark, lonely alley.

Opponents of marriage equality and gay civil rights are terrified to see “their” culture slipping away from them. For centuries, the majority has feared change and often acted in extreme measure to cling to their values. The crusades. The Inquisition. Salvery. Jim Crow. A half century ago, Americans stood up to cultural conservatives and demanded that they join the 20th century. These demands came from the courts and from marches in the streets. A “Southern” culture of segregation and supremacy was eliminated without a single vote cast at the ballot box.

But for some reason, we are resigned to allowing the majority exercise their will against gay people. We are satisfied with leaders like Governor Huckabee who are ignorant to the gentle lives snuffed out by violence. We are silent as we watch our fellow Americans relegated to second-class citizenship.

Contrary to what Governor Huckabee and the ladies of The View think, gay people are under assault every day. Until 2003, our private intimate lives were outlawed and subject to criminal prosecution in 13 states. Today, I could be fired from my job just for being gay in 31 states. I can be denied an apartment or a loan because I am gay. I can not legally fight our foreign enemies in service to this great nation without living a life of deception.

Opponents of gay rights fear the “promotion of homosexuality.” However, segregation sanctioned and endorsed by the government promotes fear itself. The irrational bigotry against gay people is supported by government policies that declare me to be less of a person. These policies, this attitude and culture, often leads to the violence that ends lives.

This month, America elected a President whose parents could not legally marry in 22 states in the year he was born. President-elect Barack Obama was born to an African father and white mother. We are told by Governor Huckabee that marriage is a 5,000 year institution that needs to be protected. This institution was one that outlawed the marriage of the parents of the future President in 22 states. Minds can change.

On the 40th Anniversary of the Loving v. Virginia decision, Mildred Loving left us with this:

Surrounded as I am now by wonderful children and grandchildren, not a day goes by that I don't think of Richard and our love, our right to marry, and how much it meant to me to have that freedom to marry the person precious to me, even if others thought he was the "wrong kind of person" for me to marry. I believe all Americans, no matter their race, no matter their sex, no matter their sexual orientation, should have that same freedom to marry. Government has no business imposing some people's religious beliefs over others. Especially if it denies people's civil rights.

I am still not a political person, but I am proud that Richard's and my name is on a court case that can help reinforce the love, the commitment, the fairness, and the family that so many people, black or white, young or old, gay or straight seek in life. I support the freedom to marry for all. That's what Loving, and loving, are all about.

Missed Metaphors

At about 0:25:



If Barack Obama loses the election, it's not because of Bradley Effects and illegal voter purges. It'll because he screwed up the Top Gun metaphor.

Senator Obama's most recent, stinging criticism of John McCain is that he's been too close to President Bush. "You can't be a maverick when you are busy being a sidekick."

Sidekick is all wrong. It's WINGMAN! You can't be a maverick when you are too busying being a wingman!

Lessons from Jury Duty

This summer, I served on my first jury. It was a rape case in downtown Los Angeles. As an avid CSI: fan, I was intrigued by the prospect of DNA evidence, type-matching, finger print analysis, ballistics, etc. What it came down to was “he said / she said.”

We did have the benefit of DNA evidence tying the defendant to a sexual act with the alleged victim. The case relied on whether it was a consensual act or not. The defendant lived in the same neighborhood as the victim and was related to a friend of the victim’s daughter. She had seen him before, but not as her attacker since the attacker was masked.

The alleged victim testified that she had a passing familiarity – having seen him a few times in the neighborhood – with the defendant, a man who was positively linked to a sex act with the victim by DNA evidence. The defendant testified that he and the woman were having an illicit affair – one of the many he was engaged in despite his long-term girlfriend who he went on to marry – and that is likely how his sperm “found its way” into her vagina.

In the jury room, a few jurors weren’t convinced of his guilt. As foreman, I had their attention and laid it out like this:

Do you believe the scientific evidence that proves there was a sex act? Answer: Yes.

Now, do you believe the victim when she said she had only seen the defendant a few times around the neighborhood, or do you believe the defendant who says they were having an affair? Answer: I don’t know.

Only one of them can be telling the truth. Who has the motivation to lie? Who has the record of lying? Who is lying? Do you believe that the victim took the stand and committed perjury? Answer: No. I guess she is telling the truth.

If you believe there was a sex act, and you believe the victim when she says that she never had consensual sex with the defendant, than you have to find him guilty of rape.

Okay, rape metaphors might be ratcheting up the rhetoric a bit, but in this election I submit this: Only one of them can be telling the truth.

Barack Obama or John McCain. Who do you believe?

Better Red than Dead

Sorry Ronald Reagan but it's becoming really clear to me why communism doesn't work. It wasn't the might of our military, the strength of our conviction, or the intoxicating power of Levi's going with everything. It's because when given the option to do less or more without consequence, people will do less.

Swallow that...

Meet Sam & Julie Thoron

This is the first ad in the marriage equality debate California is about to engage in. The No on Prop 8 side was the first on the air, an important benchmark in the campaign.

The Thorons bring the tough reality many California families will face should the bigots behind Proposition 8 win. Equality for All has ambitious plans to make sure everyone in California meets the Thorons. I wouldn't be surprised if we meet a lot of different families during this campaign.

We can help keep this ad on the air. I'm trying to raise $10,000 for my birthday -- which would help this and other ads run dozens of times during across the state.

You can give here just don't forget to include REFERRAL CODE 503.

30 Years In...

Almost 30 years ago, who would’ve thought we’d be where we are today? The Democratic Party has nominated a progressive black man for President and the Republican Party has nominated a conservative hockey mom for Vice President. All of Europe trades in one currency. Formerly hostile nations like Libya are choosing to lay down their weapons in the spirit of peace. And gay men and lesbian can legally marry in six countries and two states.

I couldn’t have imagined it because 30 years ago, I wasn’t around. I was close, but not there yet. I couldn’t have stood along side of Harvey Milk and George Moscone of San Francisco when they lead the charge to stand up for gay rights in California. And 30 years ago, they were in the fight of their lives – working to defeat the Briggs Initiative and push back against Anita Bryant and the powerful forces of hate.

I consider myself lucky to have been born when I was. That victory 30 years ago, soundly defeating the Briggs Initiative and sending Anita Bryant back to Florida, helped create an environment where I could grow to become the man I am today. Without that victory, who knows what shame would be slung on the backs of gay men and women and what impact that would have had on me.

Today, I can be open and honest as who I am and still keep my job, get insurance, live wherever I chose, be with whomever I want, and, in my state of California, one day get married and have the family that my parents raised me to have. Much of this is possible because of that fight that Californians were in right when I was born.

As I prepare for this milestone birthday it is impossible not to recognize that we are on the threshold of history this year. Whoever moves into the White House will make history. And frankly, the impact of their administration on my life is limited to tax policy and personal satisfaction. But on the same day, millions of Californians will make a decision that will profoundly affect my life – they will decide Proposition 8, the first movement since prohibition to strip rights and freedoms away from Americans.

We must defeat Proposition 8. Thirty years ago, it was about coming out and making ourselves known. Harvey Milk, who was murdered because of his defiant honesty, implored us to “come out, come out, wherever you are!” Coming out won’t do it this time. And in reality, it doesn’t matter. Most of us are out these days because of the pioneering work of these early fighters. It also won’t work because many who are this fight aren’t gay. We are men and women, straight and gay, single and married, with children and without. We believe in justice and equality. And we need to do something.

If we fail, the proprietors of hate will drag their carnival to the next state and the next. They will ride the wave of victory across this country and deny tens of millions of Americans equality under the law. It will take another generation just to get where we are today, 30 years after Briggs – 30 years after I was born.

If we win, we can stop them. The defeat of Briggs slowed down the conservatives who sought to strip every city and town of their modest protections for gays. We can cause their war chests to dry up. We can take gay marriage out of the political debate and focus on real issues. But most importantly, we can marry. That is the tangible product that they won’t ever be able to take away. Everyone in California will be equal under the law.

This will not be an easy fight. The forces on the right have rallied. Opponents of equality have upped the stakes and are planning to spend a lot of money in pushing this dangerous constitutional amendment on California. It is estimated that we’ll need more than $25 million to get our message out and encourage a “no” vote. For some perspective, in 2000, organizers working against Proposition 22 – which was thrown out by the court this past year – raised only $6 million. They lost. With this amendment taking away a right guaranteed by the California constitution, we can not stand to lose. We must defeat this initiative.

Come back often. I’ll tell you what you can do! (And I won’t cut and paste. It’ll be my own, original writing.)

Start with a promise to vote no!

The Face of the Closet

Images of gay men, used by the media, often lean towards the shocking and illicit. If you've seen media coverage of gay pride events you've definitely seen your fair share of scantily clad men, thongs, and feathers. Fictional portrayals of gay men are often just as over-the-top. Jack from Will & Grace, or the boys of Queer as Folk present America with either swishy nancy-boys or promiscuous, cock-hungry, young and greased-up hairless twinks on the prowl.

The reality is that the gay community is as diverse as any and that for every circuit boy dancing shirtless in clubs throughout our country's big cities there are fathers cuddled up on the sofa watching Dancing with Stars after putting their kids to bed.

And for every wholesome, well-adjusted gay man and shirtless twink or twink-obsessed queen, there are the men who live in the closet and are haunted by its demons.

Some of them serve in the United States Senate, but most are probably trying to get by living a "normal" life in America's heartland. They've been admonished by their clergy, scorned by their neighbors, and isolated from their families... probably before they turned 12 years-old. Eventually, they married a woman and tried to live that life they were told God had laid out for them.

The problem is you can't change your diesel into a hybrid just with a new paint job. If you are born gay, you'll find the urge, the need, the attraction unavoidable.

Thus the pain of the closet.

Governor James McGreevey will tell you all about it, if you buy his book. I imagine, after his Senate career comes to an inglorious end, Larry Craig will have a few choice words as well. For centuries, closeted gay men have gone to extremes to meet the carnal needs ignored at home.

In Huntsville, Alabama, local police found 22 men trying to meet those needs in a public park. It's an old story. The Associate Press probably can provide newswriters with boiler plate copy. I would never defend acts of public sex, and it is not my intent to encourage extra-marital sexual behavior. Furthermore, there is no evidence in this article that helps a 20-something Angeleno know for a fact that these men were living a closeted lifestyle. What I do get from the story, because it spices up local news and gets ratings, is addresses and photos of the alleged sexual deviants.

The first thing I notice is that these aren't pics of the hardbodies at Equinox West Hollywood or the rough-trade leather daddies of the meatpacking district. These are men that would likely blend in well at a John Deere tractor auction, if not an Alabama GOP Organizing Meeting.

No matter how much the media, our enemies, or even our friends, want to paint the gay community with a broad brush, they will continue to fail so long as they don't recognize that we are all very different. If we can't be wrapped up in the simple hate-filled code language of James Dobson and Pat Robertson, it might be hard to land those punches that Jimmy and Patsy hope will knock us out.

The 22 men are slimey. But they represent what happens when shame rules your life. What is rarely addressed when we (as a country) tear down a Larry Craig or Ted Haggard is what conditions pressure men (and women) into living a dangerous, lie-filled life. The lesson of these 22 mugshots continuing to live in shame.

Thresher Shark

This is what I saw last night on an early evening dive at Redondo Beach:



The common thresher is harmless, but amazing. Conditions were perfect and we had amazing visibility. The shark was about 4 to 5 feet, not counting the wicked tail.

Taste in Men

Because I clearly have HORRIBLE taste in men, like Laura Bush-horrible, I find the criticism of Michael Phelps interesting. Commenters on the gay blogs call him "ugly," "foul," and "over-hyped."

He's the greatest Olympic athlete of the modern era. He has more gold around his neck than Mr. T. And his mom, my lord, his mom is amazing. He's got an amazing body and a great, warm smile.

And sluts* like Amanda Beard say trash like this:

Eww, that’s nasty... Come on, I have really good taste. He’s really not my type.

She was interviewed by an Arizona shock-jock.

"I have never, ever hooked up with Michael Phelps," Beard said via telephone from Beijing on the "Johnjay and Rich Show," which is broadcast on Kiss FM 104.7 in Phoenix.

Beard, who has bared all for Playboy and appears in a sexy ad for PETA, also said she has never even kissed the 14-time Olympic gold-medalist.

I have no doubt she hasn't kissed Phelps, but I imagine his discerning taste might be more of the reason. Or perhaps, maybe, just maybe, not every Olympic swimmer has hooked up with every other Olympic swimmer.

I know Amanda Beard's boyfriend and I have to tell you, he ain't all that and a bag of chips. Maybe the greasy stain left on the napkin by the chips, but certainly not the chips themselves.

I love you Michael.

*For this post, I've decided that men or women who allow images of their privates be published in magazines and on web sites are sluts.

Meet Juror #8

I finished Jury Duty today. It was the first time, after four previous invitations, that I made it to a jury. I figured I wouldn't get off as easy as before -- with three times not even having to show up at the courthouse -- because I was called to report to Los Angeles' downtown criminal courts building. Los Angeles' most serious cases are tried at this courthouse, primarily because of its proximity to the Mens Central Jail.

I haven't driven downtown in more than a year. It was a nostalgic journey that seemed to pass much quicker than it did when it was part of my daily grind and I was met on the other end by my nemesis, the spork lady, and a whole mix of untouchables that made up my team of co-workers.

I reported to the 11th floor, as my summons directed, and was greeted by a crowded hallway of less than jovial prospective jurors. I was tired and a little hot, as I was toting my laptop around with me. We filed into the Jury Assembly Room, which we were told was recently remodeled for our enjoyment. The staff then bragged about the excitement which was Jury Appreciation Week in May, during which they give out free treats and organize some sort of field trip. Our service was in July. Why exactly did we care about this? Perhaps it was attempt to distract us from the fact that the Jury Assembly Room did not have WiFi.

Please, someone explain to me why the Los Angeles County Superior Court, which boasts being the largest court of its kind with an operating budget of more than $850 million, can't spring for a couple of $35 wireless routers for its jurors? I work at a hospital that provides free WiFi throughout for its visitors. Not it's patients, but the visitors who are paying nothing to be in the building. Why can't the court do the same?

It wouldn't matter. After escorting away a group of 100+ prospective jurors for a trial expected to last 15 days, I was called in the next group. A motley bunch of 75. We were told that this trial was expected to last for no more than 8 days, so the court would be less likely to consider excuses related to hardship. We headed to the courtroom on the 9th floor.

We had to go through security again on the 9th floor. I beeped going through even though I didn't in the lobby just a couple of hours earlier and in the same clothes. This seemed weird. I would later learn that this is the only floor with additional security, and that the security is more thorough than in the lobby. We were, apparently, on the floor where they try only the most serious offenders. Our case was an alleged rape.

We were given randomly assigned numbers: 1 through 75. I had drawn number 46. Very high in the list for a jury that would need only 12 members. I had visions of being released that first day, unquestioned and unchosen. I'd be rejected even by the court.

The questioning started with a group of 27. Anyone with a passing familiarity with John Grisham could've guessed accurately at what questions would be asked. I have to say I was a little shocked by the answers. The Academy would be impressed by the measures some would take to avoid service. My dog is sick and needs medication every 2 hours. My college friend's cousin was date raped in 1942. I can't be objective, I just can't. Sitting here I know he did it. Many who left the first day would be returned to the jury pool. Maybe they'd end up on a longer case. Some would be sent to civil court where the trials are often much longer and more tedious. The devil you know. The devil you know.

By the end of the first day and after a serious round of peremptory challenges, the potential juror pool was slight. Very slight. I had gone from having a 34 person buffer between myself and the 12th seat in the box to being only 2 spots away from being juror number 8. By lunch on the second day, I would have found my home in Juror 8's seat. Not having been a victim of violent crime, not knowing anyone in law enforcement, not having any strong feelings about the crime, the accused, or the alleged victim, I was going to serve on this jury.

This was a Los Angeles jury. We were joined by 3 alternates. Of the 15, there were 3 Latinos (a woman and two men) with poor English skills. They were joined by another Latino man who was stoic but with gentle eyes and a young Latina who just graduated college. There was an African American woman, a teacher, and an African American man, a student. There was an Asian female teacher, an Asian man who had also just graduated from college, and the white Nurse and single mother of 2 girls getting ready for college. There was a young white woman who worked in the entertainment industry and older white man who was a retired mechanic. I can't forget the middle-aged writer from Burbank or the young father of 2 boys, a white guy from the San Gabriel Valley. And there was me, Juror #8.

We would decide this man's fate.

Several years ago, my father sat on the jury of a rape trial. I wonder what his experience was like, before there was DNA evidence. In our case, there was DNA evidence that conclusively linked the defendant to a sex act with the alleged victim. Now we need to know whose story to believe.

We sat through testimony for three days. Courtroom drama television shows do Americans a disservice. We think we have an idea of what trial is like. Jury Duty quickly destroys any romance created by Dick Wolf or David E. Kelly. Trial is tedious. Most questions are procedural. And no one asks the question you are thinking.

Attorneys are trying to prove their side, or, in the case of the defense, at least disprove a side. They aren't necessarily concerned with the truth. There will be information they will keep from you and you will resent them for it. You will have to use the evidence they decide you get to see to make a sound judgment.

Credibility plays an important part of this process. After our decision, walking back to the garage, one of the jurors who works with children said that she is going to use this experience to stress why it's important to be good citizens. Why no crime is a minor crime. A person's criminal record -- even if only minor crimes -- can be crippling in the future. It's hard to believe a felon. Very, very hard to believe a repeat felon. Very, very, very hard to believe a repeat felon for whom there is no evidence supporting his story.

We the jury... This is our job this week. After closing arguments that would make Alan Shore cry out in pain we were sent to the jury room. It was late in the day. Could we get anything done today? We could pick our foreman.

Guess who was the foreman? After a rough few months where I would question my own self-worth, I was once again reminded that I do have some remarkable traits and leadership is one of them. I didn't say or do much, but I was chosen by my peers as the foreperson.

This was important to me as well, as there is a pace, a clip to the way I do things and I work better when I have some control. That is a lesson I've learned in these months. I need some control. Jury Duty is not about control. Being a foreman is. I didn't make up people's minds for them or even try, but I got to structure the discussion and support those who could've been railroaded. Plus, I got to write on the board. And stand a lot. I like standing.

Halfway through the first full day of deliberations, at the lunch break, I was resigned to at least another day of this process. The evidence was clear to me, but there seemed to be some genuine resistance. But maybe the others sat and marinated in their thoughts over lunch as my french dip from Philipe's marinated in its own gravy and spicy mustard. Mmmm... spicy mustard.

After returning, things picked right up again and the conversation had an enlightened flow to it. Sensing that many arguments had been repeated, I suggested an anonymous poll. It came back unanimous. After about an hour or more of finalizing some details and wrapping up the technical aspects, we had completed the task before us.

Three buzzes for the bailiff and he'd start preparing all the necessary players. The ADA was there with a different hair style than she wore through all of last week. This was more humanizing and more feminine. I liked it. The defendant was there as well with his Public Defender. That must be the hardest job in the world.

Do Public Defenders make what District Attorneys do? I know San Francisco is one of the few municipalities that has a publicly elected Defender to match the prestige of the publicly elected District Attorney. Why does our judicial system, that just demanded 6 days from my life costing me hundreds of dollars, place such little value on the defense that is so critical to the system itself?

These are all questions for another time. Today, in this moment, the 12 of us, led by me, will have a major impact on human lives. One of these lives faces us.

Guilty.

He cried. As did a few jurors.

There are questions I have today. More than anything, the case was reopened 6 years after the crime. He almost got away with it. What changed?

What does this mean for the victim, a woman who has carried this with her for 8 years. Will she sleep better tonight? Who told her the news?

What will become of the defendant's family? His wife? His kids? Dad's been in jail for a long time, is tonight different? What is the state prepared to do to help this mother and her kids now?

What will be his sentence? This is California and he has quite a record. Was this his third strike?

I think it's good that these questions didn't come into my mind in that Jury Room.

The jury experience is unique. It must be the best system in the world, but the burden is extreme. Hundreds of dollars, which for me hurts enough, but for many in this jury I imagine it will be weeks before they recover. Emotionally, the result isn't nearly as fleeting. In a few weeks, most of the sting of seeing a grown man, a convicted rapist, break down in tears will subside. It may take longer for the humble images of a working single mother tearfully recounting a senseless and violent rape in her own home to drift out of my consciousness.

And for every day that these images remain, I am told 10,000 more Angelenos will funnel into Jury Assembly rooms across the county, deprived of WiFi and grumbling their dissatisfaction about their impending hardship. And on floors above and below, defendants, victims, DAs, and Defense Attorneys, are thanking God for those jurors and hoping for a fair shake and equal opportunity before the law.

Mormons Don't Support Redefining Marriage...

...except when they do it. About 5 times in 150 years.



It was leaked out today that this weekend, California Mormons will be asked by their church to work to oppose same-sex marriage in their state. The LDS Church is up in arms because the California Supreme Court has endorse marriage equality, and in the church's opinion (and that of many religious cult leaders) strived to redefine a "5,000 year-old institution ordained by God."

I welcome the involvement of the Mormons because it might bring some due attention on the absurdity of this "5,000 year institution" argument. You might think marriage is ordained by God. You might think gays are icky. But you have no intellectual right to believe that marriage as it exist in American law is a 5,000 year-old institution. And Mormon polygamy, hot in the news these days, is a prime example.

At the founding of the church polygamy was expressly forbidden. Within a few years, it was mainstream practice with even church founder Joseph Smith having multiple wives. By the turn of the twentieth century, the church banned plural marriage again and began excommunicating its practioners, despite that fact that a church president who survived well in to the 40s was an avowed polygamist. Today, the church is adamantly opposed to polygamy. Mormons have redefined marriage nearly half a dozen times in 150 years.

Of course, I'm afraid of the gay-marriage/polygamy/beastiality comparisons that will surely spew from the mouths of evangelicals, but I welcome the death of the 5,000 year institution argument.

Can you be too gay?

I'm pretty frickin' gay, but really...



Hope his friends love him.

Thanks Dan.

40 Year Old... What?

Do you ever feel like a celebrity? I do.

After letting my manscaping get a little behind because I've been a little preoccupied recently, I decided to catch up. Ooops. Don't manscape at 6:00 AM. The new job has me waking up at normal hours again, and while I might be standing up, I am certainly not awake.

And that, my dear friends, is why I look like Steve Carell in the 40 Year Old Virgin... except I have a racing stripe down the middle of my chest and "abs" as opposed to the classic smiley.

Brian Davis for US Congress!

Apparently I'm running for Congress! I've always wanted to be a Congressman. I also wanted to be a doctor. And a nuclear engineer. And an anti-gay, race-baiting bigot! Turns out my alter-ego Brian Davis has achieved everything I've ever wanted.

Except I have more MySpace friends. Seriously, dude, if you have 2 friends (one of whom is Tom!) take down the MySpace link from your website. It's shameful!

Now Here's an Idea...

Airlines are grumbling about charging passengers more based on weight. Not baggage weight, but the passenger's own weight. Not such a bad idea.

Think about it. If my check bag is 2 pounds over the 50 lb limit, they charge $75. But if the guy two seats over weights 150 pounds more than me, he doesn't pay a penny more.

The main reason the airlines have weight limits on baggage is that a heavier plane uses more fuel, which makes the flight more expensive. So logic follows that a fatty costs the airline more. Make them pay.

I'm not saying that everyone who is a little overweight should have to fork over more cash, although the extra dough out of their hands might keep them from buying a few doughnuts, and the national health implications would be remarkable. But people who weigh an extreme amount, say more than 250 or 300 pounds, should be expected to pay a little more for that flight to Branson, Missouri.

Kid Rock, Uncle Kracker, and Kenny Chesney

Carnac the Magnificent might reply, "What follows the four horsemen of the Apocalypse?"

In reality, these three men sum up my evening last night when I ventured downtown with Kristy, Amelia, Drake and my brother and his wife for the latest Kenny Chesney concert. It was a great show, and as with all his shows, he brought out a few special guests.

Last time I saw Kenny, he was joined on stage by Uncle Kracker and... Eddie Van Halen.

Uncle Kracker is a mainstay on tour with Kenny Chesney. Apparently he smokes a lot of pot and then sings three songs with Kenny. Did you know Uncle Kracker had two hits?

This time around, Uncle Kracker was on stage with Kenny and... Kid Rock! Kid Friggin' Rock at a country concert. Seriously, Kenny Chesney is the great Country Ambassador bringing worlds together!

On another note, people like to link Kenny Chesney to a homosexual relationship with his friend Peyton Manning. My question: Why isn't he ever accused of bumping uglies -- serious uglies -- with Uncle Kracker?

Who will oppose marriage equality in California?

Seriously, is there any legitimate political leader who will champion marriage discrimination for the right wing?

Governor? Nope.
The 2 US Senators? No way.
One of the other 6 Statewide Elected Officials? None.
Mayor of the largest city, Los Angeles? Nope.
Mayor of the second largest city, San Diego? Not going to happen.
Mayor of the third largest city, San Jose? Another Democrat.
Mayor of the fourth largest city, San Francisco? Nu-uh.
Mayor of the fifth largest city, Long Beach? More Democrats.

I can't wait for this campaign.

By the way, have you seen the press conference that Republican San Diego Mayor Jerry Sanders gave when he announced his support for Marriage Equality?

Hanging on to Equality

On May 15, the California Supreme Court ruled in a 4-3 decision that the statewide ban on same-sex marriage, Proposition 22, was unconstitutional thus opening the door to same-sex marriage in the state. An initiative will likely appear on the November ballot to add a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage. This is my amateur analysis.

How do we hold on to marriage equality? At the bar the night of the Supreme Court decision, almost every conversation included a little hesitance about the future of gay marriage. Sure, we won in the Supreme Court – which was good enough back in the 60s – but now we need to fear the voters and there’s a looming ballot initiative to put the pooper on gay marriage in the state constitution. And we’ve been here before… and we lost. Remember?

November 2008 is different than March 2000. The Knight Initiative passed when I was still in college and I’m turning 30 this year for crying out loud. California’s come a long way in 8 years – and people like George Bush will probably have done more to support gay marriage than they ever had hoped.

This November, California’s electorate will be polarized. A presidential contest is on the ballot. The Democrats are coming of an exciting and newsworthy primary contest that brought millions of new voters to the party. And our nominee will stand out starkly against the tired, old conservative politics of yesterday.

This is not March 2000. It’s easy for lazy news people to pull out Proposition 22 as a harbinger of doom for marriage equality. But, have they looked at the numbers and the circumstance of the last election in which marriage equality was on the ballot?

First, Proposition 22 was on a primary ballot. Partisan contests drive voters to the polls. Unfortunately for justice, the Democratic primary in 2000 was mostly a settled deal. There was no big, top-of-the-ticket battle driving progressive Democrats to the March 2000 primary. Despite a huge voter registration edge in California, only half as many votes were cast for Democrats as there were for Republicans. According to the Secretary of State, nearly 4.5 million votes were cast for Republican primary candidates while only 2.75 million were cast for Democratic primary candidates. Republicans had more than one reason to get out and vote in March – it wasn’t just the gays.

The primary election wasn’t a legitimate sign of what was in store. In November, Al Gore trounced Governor Bush in the Golden State, winning nearly one and a half million more votes. The trend continued in 2004 and 2006, when John Kerry and Barbara Boxer – 2 liberal Democrats – both won their statewide votes with more than one and a half million more votes than their conservative rivals. California is not a conservative state, despite the outcome of Proposition 22 and it would likely not have faired as well had it been on the general election ballot.

The second factor at play should there be an amendment on the ballot on November is star power. Who will support a gay-marriage ban being added to the constitution? The popular Republican governor has made repeated comments, including affirming it yesterday, that he will not support or campaign for a constitutional ban. The only other statewide elected official is a nearly unknown Insurance Commissioner who is probably more liberal than Governor Schwarzenegger. The Republican nominee for President opposed a Federal Amendment enshrining discrimination into the Constitution, and has repeatedly set the issue should be left to the states to settle, as we did a few weeks ago. Where would be John McCain’s legitimate argument to be the spokesperson on behalf of discrimination?

On the opposing side, the starting line-up is full of titans of California politics who have made strong statements of support for equality. Just behind Governor Schwarzenegger, you have the two big-city mayors who might want his job, Gavin Newsom and Antonio Villaraigosa. Don’t underestimate what Gavin Newsom will do to protect his legacy. This is his issue and he’s owned it and championed it for 4 years. I expect he will spend a small fortune, which he’ll have no trouble raising, to defeat an amendment. He might ride this issue right into the Governor’s mansion, which is being re-made by First Lady Maria Shriver, no doubt another big name opponent to an amendment. Maybe Republican San Diego Mayor Jerry Sanders will campaign against the amendment, especially after his tear-feared public reversal on marriage equality. Mayor Sanders went through the same process most of California will go through in November, realizing that his family is personally touched by this issue and that political grandstanding fails when it breaks up your own family.

Finally, maybe we might just be surprised by what voters can do when it really matters, when it really counts. This primary season showed us how exciting it can be to be part of history. Millions of Democrats, progressive independents, and history-minded Republicans were thrilled to cast ballots for the either the first woman or first African American to be nominated as president. Maybe that energy is all it takes, to be part of history and be able to tell your children that you got to vote on someone’s human integrity and you voted the right way.

Balls In Your Mouth

What's a great way to start your day? With... BALLS IN YOUR MOUTH!
What makes everything seem great? BALLS IN YOUR MOUTH!
What keeps you from being hungry, smoking or biting your fingernails? BALLS IN YOUR MOUTH.

When trying to express oneself, it's frankly quite absurd,
To leaf through lengthy lexicons to find the perfect word.
A little spontaniaty keeps conversation keen,
You need to find a way to say, precisely what you mean...

BALLS IN YOUR MOUTH!

It's my new expression. It's like Aloha or Ciao. It can mean a lot of things. Maybe it's something you want to achieve... Or a way to express your exuberant joy... Or to stumble past something a little more vulgar...

B.I.Y.M.

A Ripple of Hope

Yesterday was the 40th anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King. A lot was said about this infamous anniversary. Most politicians had something to share, including the embarrassing comments by Senator John McCain explaining his opposition to the Martin Luther King Holiday, which was really nothing more than pandering racism. All that was said paled in comparison to what Senator Robert Kennedy had to say back in 1968, a few shorts months before he was assassinated himself.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I'm only going to talk to you just for a minute or so this evening, because I have some -- some very sad news for all of you -- Could you lower those signs, please? -- I have some very sad news for all of you, and, I think, sad news for all of our fellow citizens, and people who love peace all over the world; and that is that Martin Luther King was shot and was killed tonight in Memphis, Tennessee.

Martin Luther King dedicated his life to love and to justice between fellow human beings. He died in the cause of that effort. In this difficult day, in this difficult time for the United States, it's perhaps well to ask what kind of a nation we are and what direction we want to move in. For those of you who are black -- considering the evidence evidently is that there were white people who were responsible -- you can be filled with bitterness, and with hatred, and a desire for revenge.

We can move in that direction as a country, in greater polarization -- black people amongst blacks, and white amongst whites, filled with hatred toward one another. Or we can make an effort, as Martin Luther King did, to understand, and to comprehend, and replace that violence, that stain of bloodshed that has spread across our land, with an effort to understand, compassion, and love.

For those of you who are black and are tempted to fill with -- be filled with hatred and mistrust of the injustice of such an act, against all white people, I would only say that I can also feel in my own heart the same kind of feeling. I had a member of my family killed, but he was killed by a white man.

But we have to make an effort in the United States. We have to make an effort to understand, to get beyond, or go beyond these rather difficult times.

My favorite poem, my -- my favorite poet was Aeschylus. And he once wrote:

Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget
falls drop by drop upon the heart,
until, in our own despair,
against our will,
comes wisdom
through the awful grace of God.

What we need in the United States is not division; what we need in the United States is not hatred; what we need in the United States is not violence and lawlessness, but is love, and wisdom, and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer within our country, whether they be white or whether they be black.

So I ask you tonight to return home, to say a prayer for the family of Martin Luther King -- yeah, it's true -- but more importantly to say a prayer for our own country, which all of us love -- a prayer for understanding and that compassion of which I spoke.

We can do well in this country. We will have difficult times. We've had difficult times in the past, but we -- and we will have difficult times in the future. It is not the end of violence; it is not the end of lawlessness; and it's not the end of disorder.

But the vast majority of white people and the vast majority of black people in this country want to live together, want to improve the quality of our life, and want justice for all human beings that abide in our land.

And let's dedicate ourselves to what the Greeks wrote so many years ago: to tame the savageness of man and make gentle the life of this world. Let us dedicate ourselves to that, and say a prayer for our country and for our people.

Thank you very much.

This has been a hard week for me, a week in which I've been faced with very difficult times. I was reminded this week that it is often worse for so many others. Talking to Suzanne, she share with me her last day in her 29th year, and I sat in awe of what so many young children endur daily. Martin Luther King, just a few weeks before his life was taken, spoke of how "we shall overcome" so much adversity that lies ahead.

But not Suzanne or Martin Luther King could give words to what I have been feeling as well as Robert Kennedy.

Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget
falls drop by drop upon the heart,
until, in our own despair,
against our will,
comes wisdom
through the awful grace of God.

Those words, written 1,000s of years before in Greek, seem to resonate like few things I've heard over the past few months. With my flirtations with aethism and agnosticism, my repulsion from institutions long cherished, can be summed up in that single line, "through the awful grace of God."

God doesn't exist to solve our problems, pay our bills, bring us victory in the Super Bowl. God exists. We define our relationship and our rewards. A belief does not guarentee greatness. Greatness is sought, fought for, and clung to. God's greatness is liberating and profound, but also painful and real. Churches which rely on a message of hope and great gifts demand a faith in a benevolent power which will solve problems, defying the human experience. The realness of God might mean that there is pain, and through that pain may be found wisdom. You don't get many crisp twenties in the collection plate with that, but it doesn't mean its less true.

You can learn so much more about Kennedy's speech, a speech which may have saved a city, here. Or watch the original speech here.

Where Stupidity, Religion and Politics Mix

Source

That guy.

Does it ever end?

"I've got something to tell you."

I saw this photo on Towleroad today and thought it was interesting. The CDC let get out a really deceptive report that made it sound like every gay man was a petri dish for virulent bacteria. Apparently, one gay man's less-than-gay-friendly father was concerned about the report.

I wonder how many parents of gay kids, friends of gay people, co-workers of, you know, homosexuals, still associate the gayity with an ugly virus, illness, and deviant sex. I wonder how many people think of images from "And the Band Played On" and "Ass Captains 7" as the first thing when their loved ones finally come out to them.

Will it be different for the next generation, a little farther removed from K-S lesions and funerals by the dozen?

Source

Disappointing Leadership

There is no doubt that I've lost a little fire in the belly. I used to eat, breathe, and drink politics. Culminating in 2004, when I gave 30 hours a week to Howard Dean, received the Democratic Nomination for State Assembly, and was writing like a mad man about local politics, I trailed off dramatically.

Scuba gets blamed for much of it. But so does the disastrous campaign of John Kerry and the ridiculous dearth of principled leadership in partisan politics. The mayor of Los Angeles whores for the cameras more than the governor of New York likes whores. The speaker of the California assembly hands our golden parachutes to public employees while the former governor of New Jersey basks in golden showers.

Today I was reminded of one of those moments when my faith in politics was chipped away at just a little. Gov. George Ryan, the Republican Governor of Illinois, halted all state executions and finally commuted the sentences of every person on the Illinois' death row. He said he did it because the justice system has demonstrated that it is not fool-proof and we certainly can't take a human life based on the processes of a broken system. He pointed to things like more than 100 death row inmates have later been exonerated through infallible evidence post-conviction but prior to execution. A jury of your peers is not omniscient.

But maybe, just maybe, Gov. Ryan was trying to shield himself from the scrutiny of this:

Click here and listen to this little story.

Thanks, Paul, for reminding me not to get to excited about the presidential race because I'll likely end up disappointed again.




http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=16182655

I want to be a cowboy...

Like many teenagers, I had bad -- maybe horrible -- taste in music. Some of my favorites were inspired by having older brothers who were teenagers through much of the 80s. The music they liked in college may have dribbled down, a realization Suzanne and I came to a few weeks back when we were celebrating Toad the Wet Sprocket at a Glenn Phillips show only to realize we were the youngest people in the room.

My fascination with 80s sugar-pop, maybe a little new wave, is solely my own fault -- and maybe Suzanne's a little. There were about 4 80s CDs in constant rotation in Vendala, my 1986 Civic that I slaughtered on Magic Mountain Parkway. My copy of our favorite one, featuring the song below, was so horribly worn out because our "CD player" was a boom box that usually had to sit on someone's lap. (I did manage to have a CD player installed in time for Vendala's untimely passing.)

A few weeks ago, Suzanne burned me a copy of that classic 80s hit album so I'd never be without it. And now you can enjoy the video of one of the cheesiest songs ever recorded:



Other classics on the album include Putting on the Ritz, Pop Goes the World, Funkytown (but not the disco version), and Axel F from Beverly Hills Cop.

What Really Matters?

Brack Obama recently spoke at a rally in Medford, Oregon, using a speech about wedge issues that he's rolled out throughout the state. It's interesting because I'm familiar with Oregon; my brother's went to college just outside of Medford. Oregon is an interesting state politically that's been battling some demons. It's not a huge state, but it is as politically diverse as a behemoth like its neighbor to the south, California. Oregon has been haunted by equality fights over the past decade. Once thought to be an early-pioneer test ground for marriage, it's not caught up in a constant stuggle over basic rights. And this is where Seantor Obama decided to say this:

The reason that we have to talk about and deal with these divisions is because we get distracted every political season and election cycle by these divisions. And then we end up ignoring these big problems. Think about what these last few election cycles have been about. We argue about immigration, but we don't try to solve the immigration problem. It's an argument that is all about people's passions instead of trying to figure it out. We argue about gay marriage. In the meantime the planet is...potentially being destroyed. We've got a war that is bankrupting us. And we're going to argue about gay marriage? (applause) I mean, that...doesn't make any sense.

We argue about gay marriage because "principle progressive leaders" don't exist to speak out bravely and boldy in defense of civil rights and against the new apartheid state.

What I am most afraid about Democratic nominee Barack Obama is that he will sell us out to the right. Ironic, since he was like the most liberal senator or something of the sort; I heard it on Fox News. My friends that support him criticize Hillary -- and typically Bill, too -- by talking about how she's a hawk, how the Clinton years were a disappointment, and how we need a new leader that can bring America together.

Guess what? Conservatives don't want to sit down at the table and give me half of what I want if I concede to half of what they want. Politics is war with balloons and less polling. We convince the majority of Americans to support our candidates and then our candidates rule.

Have you ever asked yourself why the British flag doesn't fly over American buildings? Because the British lost the war.

Conservatives have spent the past 8 years denying every modest movement in a more progressive direction. They have used all their energy to villify people like Barack Obama who support tolerance, oppose the war, and want to invest in our future. Why give in to them?

Marriage equality is not a wedge issue. It's a bread-and-butter issue for about 30 million Americans and those that care about them. It's about fairness. It's about justice. It's about segregation. And taxation. And health care. And education. And employment. To 30 million Americans it is as important as things like the war and global warming.

Do you need more examples besides my landlord?

Two friends of mine are in a relationship and "registerred Domestic Partners." In California, that ugly term is about the same as civil marriage. Lesbo 1 has a job with great health benefits. They'll cover Domestic Partners. Lesbo 2 needs the coverage, so they take it. Just like how my dad's been under my mom's health insurance for about 35 years. Except the lesbians get a 1099 at the end of the year. Lesbo 2's coverage is considered income and they must pay income tax on the insurance benefits that my dad would never have had to pay.

Every time that Barack Obama says something stupid like...

We argue about gay marriage. In the meantime the planet is...potentially being destroyed. We've got a war that is bankrupting us. And we're going to argue about gay marriage? I mean, that...doesn't make any sense.

...I'm gonna try to remind us all why he needs to really lead and not just prance around on stage dressed like a leader and reading a leaders lines.



Source: Towleroad.

More Bryan

I was Bryan... again... today at Starbucks.

I hate that Starbucks. I prefer to be Brent at Coffee Bean where at least people order coffee. The five -- yes FIVE -- people in line in front of me did not order coffee! Breakfast sandwiches and juice, or water! Friggin' water! I thought Starbucks was getting rid of those nasty smelling sandwiches!

Say My Name, Say My Name

Do you know what it's like to have people consistently misspell your name? How would you feel if about half the time they misspelled your name for a version that isn't remotely as common?

Brian is a name of Celtic origins believed to mean, "noble" or "high". It's a great name with a 1,000 year old tradition. It was popularized in, like, the 11th Century by King Brian Boru who defended his kingdom in Ireland from Norse invaders. What a guy!

Bryan is a name of illiterate origins often credited as meaning a "variation of Brian."

In the 1970s -- when I was born -- "Brian" was the 8th most common boys name. It hovered in the top 20 until 1991, when it finally slipped down to 30th. But the name is still popular. It has been in the top 100 boys names in the United States for more than 60 years.

"Bryan" on the other hand, is another case. It took over a decade later until the name slipped into the top 100. It's never broken the rank of top 30 names.

Yet, the people at Coffee Bean and Starbucks always -- well at least half the time if not more often -- write "Bryan" on the side of my cup... like I'm drinking someone else's latte.

Ugh.

Oh, but today, I was Brent. (I was tired and must have slurred my speech.)

Amen

My friend Troy has some thoughts on Seantors Obama's "groundbreaking" speech on race and his run for the presidency of the United States...

The Audacity of Hypocrisy

In order to form a more perfect union…
All men are created equal…
Land of the free…

Yesterday I, along with millions of other Americans, watched Senator Obama give the first real speech on race relations and discrimination by a politician in 40 years. It was a moment staged to be revolutionary. It was a moment of supposed self-reflection and reconciliation. It was a moment where we were to look inward and see that racism is in all our lives and that by pretending it doesn’t exist, is to limit our country from healing.

Senator Obama held a mirror up for all of us to look in. White, black, Asian, Native American, red states and blue states. We were to see that if we are not part of the solution, then we are part of the problem and that if we truly wish to be the Land of the Free then we need to work together and be honest with ourselves. Today I hold up that mirror up for the Senator to look in.

How can you stand and deliver a speech on equality, to talk about the kitchen-table-discrimination that our country perpetuates and yet still not support the rights of millions of Americans who only wish to marry the person they love? Do you not see this as discrimination? Do you not see that you are telling a group of citizens that they cannot have the same rights as you? Do you not see that saying you can have civil unions while everyone else marries is the same as saying you have a seat on the bus, but only in the back of the bus because you are not like us?

In your speech you talked of Rev. Wright as being a man whom you admire but who does not always represent you in what he says. How is it that you can compartmentalize your belief system when it has to do with your Reverend and his impact on your political status, but you cannot compartmentalize your belief system from the church when it comes to delivering equality to the only group in America that is still institutionally discriminated against?

On your website you wrote, "And I should say that personally, I do believe that marriage is between a man and a woman." Well let me say this. There were people who believed that interracial marriages should be illegal and like you, they were wrong. Two people who love each other and who are committed to one another should have the same rights, no matter their race, creed or sexual orientation.

You sir, discriminate. You sir, are guilty of the same sins as those who believed that blacks should not have the same rights as whites. You speak of equality and yet you legislate and preach discrimination. I find that hypocrisy unforgivable.

We have three candidates in this election and not one of you has had the courage to stand up and say the discrimination is universally wrong. I hear about racism every day. I hear of sexism every day. I never hear about the one group that is still legally discriminated against. Homosexuals. I understand that it’s a politically sensitive area, but I am looking for a President with the courage to do what’s right.

Let me be clear about this clear Senator Obama. We were fed to the lions with the Christians. We were gassed and shot with the Jews. We have been hung from trees, dragged behind trucks and left to rot in the sun just like African Americans. We were here from the beginning of time and will be here until the end of time.

If you dare to speak of equality, then dare to fight for equality.

I want change too, Senator…

Troy is right. Obviously, some will say, "The speech was about race, no gay rights." Some will say blacks have suffered more, or differently, or that Starbucks burns their coffee. All three of those things don't matter.

We live in an apartheid state. Segregation -- legal segregation by the government -- exists today, in 2008. And our leaders, both progressive and conservative, are content to let it continue so they don't "lose" an election. Problem is we all lose. My former landlord who lost his lover of 30 years and was forced to sell their home because he got no pension benefits loses. The mother who has her kids taken from her for no reason other than she is a lesbian loses. The thousands of children who could be welcomed in to the loving homes with 2 gay parents lose. And Obama hides behind church and 5,000 years of oppression, female ownership, slavery, and hypocrisy -- a tradition which his own denomination, the United Church of Christ has rejected by supporting full marriage equality.

Ayudame!

Ever have a really weird thing happen that you just need to tell someone?

I've been watching the diet a little, cutting out High Fructose Corn Syrup. Not because I need to lose weight or anything, we all know I'm pretty hot, but because that shit is whack! Seriously, read up on good ol' HFCS. ...but, sometimes, some mornings, you just need a little something. Mmmm... donuts!

I love donuts! I've loved them ever since I was a little kid and my dad would get up at 5:00 AM on the weekend to get to the donut shop before the pickings were slim. Today, I craved a donut and I knew I was gonna drive past a donut shop on the way in to work. So I pulled in to a parking lot full of day laborers.

This seems like a weird place for them to gather. There's no hardware store nearby. It's a small shopping center with a liquor store and a donut shop, and that's about it. Strangely, the donut shop is exactly across the street from the LAPD's Pacific Divsion station house. But there they were. Eager to work. So eager, in fact, that when I pulled in to the lot in my pick-up truck, I got swarmed and one fella even jumped in to the bed of my truck. Don't go get donuts, driving a pick-up truck, in a parking lot full of day laborers.

They were very polite when I explained I just wanted donuts. The gentleman in the back got out, and they all returned to their exact spots, as if they were blocked by a stage director, and continued with their waiting.

Seriously, that's a story I can't keep to myself. And there's only one person I could call. He's always there for my crazy observations. Like the time the woman working at Barnes & Noble asked if I wanted to donate a book to school "lie-berry", I just had to call someone. (I did donate out of fear that another child would graduate from school thinking a library was called a "lie-berry.")

Thank you, Chris, for being there!

Oh, and I ended up not getting the donut. Donut shops in 2008 are sad, sad places.

8 Months.

If you were going to make a movie about my life, you could call it "8 Months." My life runs in 8 month cycles. Funny, because it's like elections, which often run about the same...

Every 8 months I start looking for ways to change things dramatically. New job. New friends. New home. I mean, I've had like 13 roommates in 10 years:

Peter - Mondo - Suzanne - George - Chris - Brad - Ethan - A Different Chris - Ron - Beth - Michelle - Jamie - Ben

I've lived in 8 places in 10 years, without really every venturing out of Los Angeles:

On Campus - Mar Vista - Studio City - Home Again - Burbank - North Hollywood - Hancock Park - Playa del Rey

I've had a good number of jobs that I don't even want to start on.

Wow. 8 months. That's like an old television season, if we still had television seasons.

So, at 8 months I get antsy for something. A few weeks ago, my brother innocently stirred things up in the family. Things seemed to have settled but I'm haunted by something my sister (in-law) said about how when things are going well, he shakes things up. Like we feed on chaos. My family life growing up was great -- no real complaints at all -- but it definately was chaotic. A house with 3 boys, an overworked father, a fiesty Irish momma; there's bound to be some chaos. Maybe it was mom's mood swings, or so much activity being shifted by school calendars, swim seasons, and family vacations, but I think my body -- not just my mind -- has become dependment on that chaos. Stability beware.

I'm tired. But still trying to think how to mix it up even though 2008 has me trapped!

Do you need to Give Big?

Last night, I came home from a big day of diving at Catalina's Casino Point in Avalon. I have a great class that has really grown on me, but the conditions weren't very good. I was also working with a stand-out Divemaster candidate named Reza. It'll be great when he's an instructor! When I came home, I took a bath, read a little and then turned on the television to woo me to sleep. And I remembered at the last minute that last night was the premiere of Oprah's Big Give.

The show was Sunday Sappy at it's best. Surely a line-up of Extreme Makeover Home Edition and Oprah's Big Give could send much of America into Diabetic coma. It was impressive to see people doing so much for people who've been dealt a raw deal. But America has a lot of people playing with a rough deck. And while Oprah can make you feel good about yourself, her show can't really make a difference on the large scale.

But Reza can.

I spent the day working with him and saw and loved something about him. The way Reza interacts with people is astonishing. He introduces himself to almost everyone he meets. He chats up everyone. The driver of the baggage truck, the woman filling scuba tanks, the women serving Bloody Marys on the boat, the waiter at the pizza joint. And then he addresses people by name. And he asks them how they are doing... and listens long enough to hear the answer. You could see the reaction in many of these people and it was beautiful. In fact, the Bloody Mary ladies told us that speaking with us was the highlight of their day.

I learned from Reza something I always knew. You don't need to Give Big like Oprah. You just need to give. Even a little will matter.

Bitch is the New Black!

Amen Tina Fey! I ended up voting for Hillary in the Democratic Primary. Despite how Daily Kos wants to act like Hillary can't win shit -- except, you know, California, New York and Masschusetts -- I was proud to cast my vote for the winner of the California Primary. You well know I started out a John Edwards man. Well, that's not true. I was really a Gore man, but he wouldn't run. John Edwards was my "heart choice," because he spoke to the issues that I care about and love. He spoke about the poor, and failing schools, and universal health care, and he ran standing side by side with those on the gulf coast, and in America's big cities, and along with the working poor of Apalachia. But, my heart rarely wins elections.

Hillary Clinton is the candidate of my mind. She will kick ass from day one. She was part of the most successful administration in two generations. She saw first hand the mistakes made by an over-reaching President who didn't "have Congress," and she has spent 7 years in the United States Senate learning how to work as one among 535 and how to be an effective agent of change. And in 2008, we need a woman, a bitch you might say. Because, frankly, bitches get things done!

If Tuesday doesn't go the way we need it to, I will gladly vote for and support Barack Obama. But I think he's got a tough road ahead. I don't know if polls 8 months out against John McCain guarentee easy sailing. I mean, in June Hillary was a shoo-in for the Democratic nomination and John McCain's future career was that on the book-writing, lecture-giving circuit. I will be sad because I think the best candidate left will have to return to kicking ass for people of New York.

But... if you want to get on the Hill-bandwagon, it's not too late. My friend Kevin helped me make these awesome Tina inspired shirts:



make custom gifts at Zazzle

Whose Fundamentalist is Better?

Today, on Towleroad, I got a little introduction to an interesting article about sex changes in Iran.

Apparently, in Iran under the laws of the Islamic revolution you can legally have gender reassignment surgery, and the government -- the fundamentalist Islamic government -- will pay for up to half of the costs.

They still hang gay teenagers and stone rape victims, but this little piece is interesting. It seems that for those diagnosed as transexuals, a medical diagnosis based in science, the government allows for the change.

Funny, because our type of fundamentalists don't believe in science, but yet even the horrible dictatorial regime of Iran has been more forward thinking than the Christian fundies of the United States.

Army of Lovers made me gay!

I think this video made me gay:



Eva -- my dive buddy and Eurotrash pop music dealer -- sent me this video today after I spent the weekend making a boat full of divers listen to this song, as sung by me!

I first saw this video in my freshman or sophomore year of high school. I was harboring some secret feelings that I hadn't told anyone. That's not easy for my personality type. It might be why I don't keep secrets well these days. Why not tell everyone, if I keep it in, maybe no one will ever know.

I was watching MTV at around 2:00 AM, back when they used to play music videos. When I couldn't sleep, or didn't want to sleep, I would stay up late and hope to catch something scandalous on television. This video was scandalous.

What was a young, closeted gay boy to do? Apparently, never forget the video and let it haunt my memory for about 15 years.

3 Words

Wednesday Night

Last night's dream wasn't nearly as detailed as Tuesday night's but it was still vivid. Maybe even more. Last night I dreamnt that my father died.

In the dream, I got a call from my mother but because I've had my phone silenced a lot recently, I didn't see she had called for hours. I drove to the hospital in the Valley and sat outside on the curb for a long time before going in.

That was most of the dream.

This one was bad and shook me to the core. I haven't spoken with my father -- not in the "I'm not speaking to you" sense, I just haven't spoken with him -- since the accident. My parents handled it shittily and essentially ignored it. I didn't hear from my mother for over a week. My mother rarely goes more than 4 days without calling for no reason whatsoever. That week, she went a whole week. My dad, in the background on that conversation, said he didn't call because I "don't answer my phone."

I know I just wanted my family to reach out to me when I was going through that and they didn't. That upset me and I struggled with it all week. It was made worse with the fact that my roommate's mom was in town the whole time and was very comforting and supportive.

But I was struck with the pain of unresolved feelings in this dream. The things we don't say that we might not ever have the chance to say... the finality of things, really.

Tuesday Night

I was back working at the LA Gay & Lesbian Center. Whenever I have a work dream, it's always staged there. Our Development staff was hanging out in our center room and we had a newish staff person. It was a woman I worked with at Inner City, a job I had after the Gays, but thats not important. This woman was cool, very smart, and better than most of the tools at that job, but she was a little radical and revolutionary.

Well, I made one of my typical off-color comments and she had walked in on it and was offended. When I went to defend the remark and apologize or whatever else I had in mind, I couldn't remember her name. I couldn't remember a co-workers name right in front of her. But it got worse. I couldn't remember anyone's name in the group. I forgot what some of the objects in the room were called. It crescendoed in not being able to remember my own name, resulting in a breakdown. The woman -- whose name is Allegra by the way -- and the CEO of the agency, who I always hated, tried to console me and decided to take me to the hospital. They both walked me to the elevator.

Once in side, Allegra turned into this interesting fella that I met recently and who was in the group of people I was hanging out with Tuesday night for reals. I only know a little of this guy and I can't think of any other time when someone I just met so quickly found a way into my dreams. The three of us -- this fella, the CEO, and me -- walked to his truck, a Honda Ridgeline, so he could drive me to the hospital. Once there, the mega-bitch CEO was cradling me like a child and the fella was holding my hand and wiping my face with a cloth wearing Allegra's clothing from earlier in the dream. (Not women's clothing, but pseudo-revolutionary garb. Like something Kim from work might wear.) I woke up around then.

Some of my questions:
Why do all my work dreams take place at the LA Gay & Lesbian Center? I've worked at 12 places in my entire life and over the past few years, every work dream has been there and they are coming much more frequently recently.

Why did Allegra, a woman I only worked with a few months at Inner City make an appearance at the Gay & Lesbian Center in this dream?

Did I have a stroke? Too much stress? What happened to cause me to forget all these things?

Why did the fella make an appearance and why did he assume Allegra's role in the very beginning?

Why do I remember the detail of his truck so well? Especially since the fella really drives a Saab? Where did the Honda Ridgeline come from?

Dreams

I'm not much of a dreamer, maybe because I'm livin' the dream! But there is no doubt that what happened almost 3 weeks ago has had a big impact on my life. Dealing with everything that day was more than I think my fragile mind can handle.

It first manifested in exhaustion. I actually felt "intellectually tired," it was wearing to simply think of things. For a couple of days I spent hours actually doing nothing. Staring at a wall. Lying in bed with my face in the pillow.

Then it was anger. When I went to Portland, I was in the height of this. I was angry with just about everything and everyone. I hated people that are overweight, I hated laziness, I hated noise. Thankfully, much of the anger is subsided but not entirely.

I also felt alone.

Finally, last weekend, came the rush of emotions. I spent a day off, an entire day off, in bed. I didn't shower. I only got up twice, once to pee and once to make dinner. I warmed up some Macraroni & Cheese... too hot. So I needed to cool it off. I put it in the freezer, but the plate fell and dumped out. I lost it and had a complete breakdown. The irony, the mac and cheese fell into an empty, clean bowl in the freezer so there wasn't a mess and my dinner was easily salvageable.

Now, with things wrapping up -- my last days with students that were on the boat with me are slipping by -- the remnants have found their way into my dreams.

I've had a particularly vivid and traumatic dream each night for the past two nights. I will write about them.

Great Acheivements in Douchebaggery VI

Anyone, including former Olympic Organizing Committee Chair - former Governor - former Presidential Frontrunner - former and once-again douchebag Mitt Romney, who using the phrase "unelected judges" to disparage a decision they don't agree with is a Great Douchebag.

You see, the rules of the game were set out pretty early. Oh, about 200+ years ago a bunch of old white men set those rules with the writing and adoption of the United States Constitution. No person who hopes to one day swear "to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States" should approach that job capitalizing on the lameness of 1/3 of it.

Mitt Romney dropped out of the GOP presidential race today with these words, and certainly other douchey ones:

"The development of a child is enhanced by having a mother and father. Such a family is the ideal for the future of the child and for the strength of a nation. I wonder how it is that unelected judges, like some in my state of Massachusetts, are so unaware of this reality, so oblivious to the millennia of recorded history. It is time for the people of America to fortify marriage through constitutional amendment, so that liberal judges cannot continue to attack it!"

Mitt, and other douchebags, judges needn't be elected because Governors and Presidents that appoint them are. The accountability lies at the hands of the people who appointed them. If the voters are dissatisfied enough, then they can turn out those men and women who make the appointments as well as their parties. (5 of the current 7 justices were appointed by Republicans. Maybe that's why Romney's successor was a Democrat who won with a huge majority.) And the upside, the judges themselves needn't be concerned with popular will but what the constitution -- of the country or the state -- demands.

I am sick and tired of douchebags that don't respect the Constitution but claim to be more patriotic, even American, than people like me. Andrew Sullivan, the pseudo-conservative, put it great when evaluating the Bush administration's mishandling of... well... everything:

(paraphrasing) The President does not swear an oath that no Americans will die in an act of terror under his watch, he takes an oath to protect and defend the Constitution and that should always be his first priority. That is how we win this "war".

Previous douchebags:

Katie Couric
Rudy Guiliani
Mitt Romney
Tim Hardaway
Terrence Howard

Worst. Week. Ever.

It's 10:06 on Thursday night. In one hour and fifty-four minutes, the worst week of my life will be over. This exact time last week I was in the ER of UCLA medical center trying to console my roommate Ron who was trying to pass me off as his brother.

-- Ron is 6'4" tall, dark, thin, and Italian. --

Beth had a seizure and we had no idea why. We still don't although it's either viral or hormonal most likely. But her recovery was hard.

Then Sunday, on a dive boat, something shitty happened. Damian, something you fear the most.

It's sucked dealing with this. And I spent most of the week being the strong one despite really being quite weak. My alone times have been the hardest. And, frankly, those that know and are closest have been horribly disappointing... to an extreme, almost unforgivable level. I feel alone.



But tomorrow it's a new week. A new period of 7 days. I'm going to see Garth Brooks on tickets I freakishly got on the worst day of my life. And Saturday I'm going to Oregon thanks to my sister-in-law and brother. Maybe 2008 its just coming 25 days late...