11
July
2011
Tags: Food
No comments

From the Kitchen of the Waldorf

It’s summer, and time for meals that don’t involve the oven or stove-top. In this instance, I made a Waldorf chicken salad. (If you buy a rotisserie chicken there’s no need to heat up anything.)

Here’s the recipe – I will follow it with my variations:

Ingredients:
2-4 cups rotisserie chicken, shredded
1 cup chopped Granny Smith apple
1/2 cup celery, chopped
1 cup green seedless grapes, halved
1/2 cup walnuts, chopped
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 tablespoons sour cream
1 teaspoon lemon juice
Salt & pepper to taste

Directions:
1. Mix all fruits and vegetables together
2. Toss lightly with lemon juice
3. Stir in walnuts, chicken, mayo and sour cream.
4. Add salt and pepper to taste.
5. Cover and refrigerate at least two hours to meld flavors.

It’s really a recipe that involves chopping and assembling, no culinary expertise needed. I substituted plain yogurt for the sour cream and used a bit more than two tablespoons. (Which allowed me to use less mayo as we were down to the bottom of the container.)

I also added the fresh lemon juice earlier, sprinkling it onto the apple as soon as it was chopped (it will prevent the apple from turning brown – which happens sooner than you think). A small sprig of mint from the garden works well as a garnish. This is the quintessential summer dish, but because of the mayo be sure to keep it cool.

Continue reading ...
07
July
2011
Tags: General
No comments

Clover in the Grass

There were days when lying in the grass and counting clover leaves were all we had to do in the summer. The sweet smell of the clover blossoms drew the bees, but their buzzing was a reassuring sign of the season, not a warning, and certainly not a danger. The grass was soft, and just the slightest bit wet with the last of the morning dew. The sun traveled overhead – the shadow of the house retracted – and by high noon it was hazy and hot. It was summer, it was glorious, and it was never-ending.

Every once in a while I’ll return to that moment, that feeling. A carefree childhood, bereft of adult worries – the wonder of a day, of a moment, stretched out in the endless path of the sun – the promise of a four-leaf clover, hidden somewhere, maybe many somewheres, in the expanse of a lawn.

It’s too soon for the cry of the cicadas – though this is the heat in which they like to sing. In the forest, in the distance, they will sound their buzzing – starting slowly, then growing into a shrill siren call. I will remember the summers gone by, in the midst of the summer at hand.

Continue reading ...
07
July
2011
Tags: General, Madonna, Music
No comments

The Madonna Timeline: Song #47 ~ ‘Spanish Lesson’ – 2008

{Note: The Madonna Timeline is an ongoing feature, where I put the iPod on shuffle, and write a little anecdote on whatever was going on in my life when that Madonna song was released and/or came to prominence in my mind.}

It was a tradition that started with ‘La Isla Bonita’ and the ‘True Blue’ album. From that moment on, in every studio record until 1992, Madonna had featured one Spanish/Latin-influenced track. The tradition continued with ‘Pray for Spanish Eyes’ on ‘Like A Prayer’, and reached its nadir with ‘I’m Going Bananas’ on ‘I’m Breathless’. Even ‘Deeper and Deeper’ from ‘Erotica’ had a tinge of Flamenco guitar in it, but since that infamous album, Madonna has kept the kitschy Spanish numbers off her studio albums.

From 1998 through 2007, she left the Spanish lullabies to Ricky Martin and Shakira, as she recharged with electronica and dance music. That changed with her last studio album, ‘Hard Candy’. Suddenly it was 1986 all over again, as ‘Spanish Lesson’ found her back in the Spanglish department, loosely translating common phrases (not exactly accurately – “Mucho gusto means I’m welcome to you” – umm, it does?) and turning up the silly factor: “If you do your homework, maybe I will give you more/ When you do your homework, get up on the dance-floor.” Yeah, it’s pretty painful. I won’t prolong the agony, and I won’t re-print any more of the inane lyrics.

About the only personal memory I have of this song is hitting the ‘Next’ button in the car or on the stereo. I assume it made it into the iPod in the first exciting flush of a new album (2008). I really need to update this thing. And Madonna really needs to get back into the studio… oh wait – she just did! The world has been waiting…

Song #47: ‘Spanish Lesson’ – 2008

Continue reading ...
02
July
2011
Tags: Family
No comments

Adventures in Babysitting

God, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to use that post title and mean it… Yes, I officially babysat my niece and nephew on Friday. (Full disclosure before anyone calls the child abuse hotline: my parents were in and out of the house, so there was back-up in the event of a diaper disaster, but more on that later.)

I’ve been left alone with them before, while my brother ran a few errands, but they mostly slept through it, so I really thought it was going to be a cakewalk. I had babysitting visions of sitting idly on the couch finishing a book, writing a few letters, lazily changing the TV channel, throwing a few Cheerios their way and calling it a day. That’s not the way it works.

At fifteen months they can walk. And they do. Especially where they’re not supposed to walk. They can also see. Everything – especially what you’re trying to hide from drool-spewed hands, i.e. a camera. Whatever happened to the rumor that babies couldn’t see beyond ten feet or something? Didn’t I read that somewhere? Anyway, total bullshit.

And speaking of shit, let’s just get the diaper issue out of the way. I thought I might be able to get out of it. 9 AM to 2 PM is, granted, a decent amount of time, but I figured if they were changed right before I got there, and if we could limit the intake of food and drink, then maybe I could get away without one. Go ahead and laugh.

I’d seen my brother change Noah before – but he was only wet. At first I honestly thought it would be all right, but then everyone started to warn me about ‘surprises’, and God knows I don’t like being surprised, so I started to worry. I had a genius idea of partaking in some outside summer fun when and if the diaper-change moment came up – simply hosing them down and not getting near the disaster area – but other parents I spoke to poo-pooed that idea (thank you Sherri and Skip). Apparently babies don’t like icy water shot at them with a garden hose. I thought it could be a fun summer-splash kind of moment, but no one agreed. Fine.

My Mom helped out with the first one. (Yes, by ‘first’ I mean to imply that there would be a second…) She showed me how to lay the new diaper out under the old one, then quickly take the old one off, wipe everything down and fasten the new one. It all went so fast I was mildly disoriented. The fact that babies don’t sit still didn’t help. So, the clock is ticking, the baby is squirming, and my Mom is mentioning something about a ‘surprise’ again. She finishes with Emi before I can even undo Noah’s belt buckle.

Now, I love my nephew, but at this point I am just praying that he knows how much I don’t like surprises. He must have, because I swear at that moment he gave me a mischievous little smile, and when I unfastened his diaper ‘Surprise!!’

I’m not going to lie. I’m not going to paint myself as the diaper-changing champ some people thought I would be. And it pains me to say it because I can do just about anything I set my mind on doing. This just wasn’t it. Not yet. I reared my head back and told Mom there was a surprise. She quickly started wiping and just had me hold his legs up. And I have to say, it wasn’t that bad. But again, no cakewalk.

I thought for sure that was it. We were halfway through the day, I got through a diaper change, I took the twins out for a ride in their Radio Flyer, and they finally settled in for a long nap.

I don’t know about you, but when I wake up the first thing I do is hit the snooze button. About ten times. Then I slowly begin to adjust my eyes to the world around me, taking the time to reacclimate myself to what is going on, letting things register bit by bit. I might even go back to sleep if the day allows. These babies weren’t like that. As soon as Noah opened his eyes he was back to climbing up on the couch to find the remote control I didn’t even realize was there. As soon as Emi opened her eyes she started crying. It was like there was a switch that went on – at the same time – and there was no need for a gradual adjustment. It was as if there wasn’t a nap at all, and we jumped right back into the races without a skipped beat. Which meant another diaper change.

It came out of the blue, and my Mom was so nonchalant about it she just started changing Emi and said I could change Noah. At first I was confused – we just did this, didn’t we? But then I thought it should be easy – at the worst there might be a little wetness. All they were doing was napping. The pants came down a little easier this time, the diaper unfastened without a hitch, and – as is karmic retribution for things I didn’t even knew I did – there it was – SURPRISE!

Who takes a shit in their sleep? I mean, who does that? This is the stuff of out-of-control drug-and-alcohol-ravaged rock stars. This is the stuff of Charlie Sheen. And apparently it’s the stuff of my nephew. But this time I didn’t have help. Someone threw a wipe in my direction and that was it. I went to work. Again, it went so fast that it was all kind of a blur – but it really wasn’t that bad. (And Paul and Erin, I apologize if at the next diaper change you wonder what kind of animal put that one on  – it was me.) But I did it, and as soon as his pants were back on he was off and running, so at least it didn’t fall off.

That was it – my first attempt at babysitting. We all survived. I’m a little bit wiser now, and they got to know their Uncle a little better. I learned that babysitting wasn’t a cakewalk. I learned that twins are relentless. I learned that you have to watch them ALL THE TIME. I learned you have to be quick. Above all else, I learned that I loved it and can’t wait to do it again.

Continue reading ...
02
July
2011
Tags: General, Madonna, Music
No comments

The Madonna Timeline: Song #46 ~ ‘This Used to be My Playground’ – Summer 1992

{Note: The Madonna Timeline is an ongoing feature, where I put the iPod on shuffle, and write a little anecdote on whatever was going on in my life when that Madonna song was released and/or came to prominence in my mind.}

It turns out I already wrote the entry for this song last year, before the timeline took shape, but it still holds true, so I’m going to step back into the sun, dip back into the pool, and re-hash what I already wrote, word for word.

It was July 1992. I had just returned from a trip to Finland for a wedding, leaving the extended European trip early to attend a summer course at Brown University. I thought it would be a good thing to pad my high school resume for college (well, my parents thought it would be – I personally didn’t really care either way). It was a biology course, with some hands-on study at the Roger Williams Park Zoo.

Upon arriving at Brown, I experienced my first and only real bout of homesickness (well, after the age of ten at least) – I didn’t even feel it when I went away to college. This time I was searching for a private place to cry and remembering how I used to look up into the fluorescent lights of my first grade class hoping that they would dry my tears faster. The crying part was over by the second day, and when I found myself with the time and private place to do it again I didn’t even need to. Still, I missed my family, and to assuage the pit in my stomach I spent my free time searching the library at the University for genealogy books. Not that I ever expected to find any Ilagans there, it just felt good to look and make plans in my mind of when I would see them again.

My chosen project at the zoo was a study on the lemurs. I had noticed that one of them sat quietly, while the others ran circles around him, occasionally chasing him out of the way. It was my ‘hypothesis’ that this lemur was more or less being hounded into submission, and was therefore not exhibiting all of his natural behavior. Looking back, it was probably the least scientific hypothesis ever almost-proven, but somehow I pulled it off and garnered an ‘A’ on it (which was the whole grade of the course).

By choosing the lemurs, which were off the beaten path of the zoo and not as exciting or awe-inspiring as the elephants or Tamarin monkeys, I could be alone, watching their antics and taking notes on behavior. I didn’t want to be around the other students, whom I suspected of intelligence greater than mine, but who displayed too many signs of immaturity. The ones I did find interesting – like the girl who wore a billion strands of tiny beads that she had strung herself – had ostracized themselves with their quirky fashion choices or frowned-upon habits of sleeping with each other.

I also had other concerns, in the form of one psycho red-headed roommate. He had written out a ten-plus page treatise on how he planned to join forces with Satan, take over the world, then double-cross Satan and have the power to himself. Not kidding. When he left for the day, I promptly took a huge risk, stole the papers, ran to the library and made a Xerox copy, then hid it in my luggage in the event that my body was found slaughtered under the bed at the end of the two weeks. Luckily he left me alone, as I must have seemed a non-threat in his quest for universal domination.

The noxious purple loosestrife was just beginning to show its bright color in the zoo’s natural wetlands, and staff warned us of how dangerous it was, in its propensity to take over the wetlands and choke out natives. Summer beat down upon the zoo paths, and I was grateful for the air-conditioned bus ride back to campus at the end of the day.

I didn’t explore Brown University as much as I perhaps should have. Part of me dreaded the idea of college so much that I shrank away from anything remotely connected to it, such as checking out what campus life was like, even if it was the doldrums of summer. I did walk around the small stretch of shops and cafes, and I explored some of the art shops that were there (being in proximity to the Rhode Island School of Design). On one such excursion I picked up an old Herb Ritts compilation – a beautiful pair of cloth-bound editions of some of his classic shots. In the black-and-white beauty found within its pages, I found a semi-solace from my loneliness, and a glimpse into a world so far and fully removed from my own.

On the radio I listened to Madonna’s ‘This Used To Be My Playground,’ a dirge-like lament on time gone by. It has not weathered the years well, and for quite a while I couldn’t even bring myself to listen to it because it was just so unspectacular. But it was part of my past, and part of that summer. A wistful look back on the season that used to be so carefree and celebratory. It was my last summer of innocence. The next Fall and Winter would bring my first girlfriend and last year of high school.

As for the song, it would prove to be Madonna’s last hit before the infamous ‘Sex/Erotica‘ years, though according to producer Shep Pettibone, it was one of the last songs written for those sessions. That’s a lot of ‘lasts’ for a season that never does.

Wishing you were here with me…
Song #46: ‘This Used To Be My Playground’ – Summer 1992

Continue reading ...
01
July
2011
Tags: Music
No comments

Summer Memories: It Must Have Been Love

Lay a whisper on my pillow,
leave the winter on the ground.
I wake up lonely, there’s air of silence
in the bedroom and all around.
Touch me now, I close my eyes and dream away.
It must have been love but it’s over now.
It must have been good but I lost it somehow.
It must have been love but it’s over now.
From the moment we touched ’til the time had run out.

In the summer of 1990 I found myself on a People-to-People Exchange in what was then termed the Soviet Union. There were a few notable songs to that summer: ‘U Can’t Touch This’ by M.C. Hammer, ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’ by Sinead O’Connor, and ‘It Must Have Been Love’ by Roxette. Only the first (Can’t Touch This) could I relate to in any direct way (and even then it was merely in a superficial, sideways-dancing-in-skidz kind of way). The last two touched on heartbreak that I’d never known before, though I could sense in them a yearning for something, and a longing that would never quite go away. My heart had never been broken like that, but not for lack of trying. How I hoped to connect to someone, to get that close, to have just the chance of such pain – and how little did I know what was in store for me.

I was fourteen years old, surrounded by friends from home, and on a European adventure. At the start of summer, we flew from Washington, DC to Moscow. I was beginning to see the world. I was beginning to find myself. Letting go of a childhood spent mostly, and happily, in relative summer solitude, I felt the reassuring friendship and camaraderie of a group of friends – some of whom have remained in my life to this very day. We traveled by bus, plane, train, and boat – we shared sleeping quarters, questionable food, mildly-amused hosts, and the foreignness of a country on the other side of the world. In experiencing another culture, we looked back at our own, and at each other, with equal parts suspicion, love, disdain, and loyalty.

Make-believing we’re together,
that I’m sheltered by your heart.
But in and outside I’ve turned to water
like a teardrop in your palm.
And it’s a hard winter’s day, I dream away.
It must have been love but it’s over now,
it was all that I wanted, now I’m living without.
It must have been love but it’s over now,
it’s where the water flows, it’s where the wind blows
it’s where the wind blows…

When the trip was over I found myself home alone in the backyard again, watching the hollyhocks and picking off the Japanese beetles in the late morning sun. The doleful sounds of ‘It Must Have Been Love’ played on the radio. As I missed my friends, as I missed those moments we shared, I understood that longing, and my heart, experiencing a first bit of joyful regret, broke just a little.

It’s where the water flows…
Continue reading ...
30
June
2011
Tags: General, Madonna, Music
No comments

The Madonna Timeline: Song #45~ ‘Miles Away’ – Summer 2009

{Note: The Madonna Timeline is an ongoing feature, where I put the iPod on shuffle, and write a little anecdote on whatever was going on in my life when that Madonna song was released and/or came to prominence in my mind.}

I just woke up from a fuzzy dream,
You never will believe the things that I have seen,
I looked in the mirror and I saw your face,
You looked right through me, you were miles away
All my dreams, they fade away,
I’ll never be the same.
If you could see me the way you see yourself,
I can’t pretend to be someone else.

The iPod must be on a ‘Hard Candy’ sugar rush, as it has moved from ‘Beat Goes On’ to ‘Miles Away’ for this Madonna Timeline moment. I think it is the sentiment that I can relate to most in this song, much more-so than the mediocre music. (Apologies for the lengthy absence of a Madonna Timeline post – it fell by the wayside as I was championing marriage equality.)

You always love me more, miles away,
I hear it in your voice, miles away,
You’re not afraid to tell me, miles away,
I guess we’re at our best when we’re miles away…
When no one’s around and I have you here,
I begin to see the picture, it becomes so clear,
You always have the biggest heart
When we’re six thousand miles apart.
Too much of no sound,
Uncomfortable silence can be so loud
Those three words are never enough
When it’s long-distance love…

‘Miles Away’ deals with the push and pull of a long-distance relationship, or a relationship that benefits from distance. It is meaty territory, but Madonna just nibbles around the heart of the matter without offering any truly personal morsels of revelation. She saved that for her live performance of the song on the ‘Sticky and Sweet Tour’.

The main memory I have of this song is watching her perform it in Boston, a day or two before official news of her divorce from Guy Ritchie made headlines. As she began strumming the opening notes on her guitar, she dedicated it to the “emotionally-retarded” ~ a rare, personal (if politically incorrect) glimpse of bitterness on a stage in front of thousands. That’s what they mean by “steely vulnerability”.

I’m all right,
Don’t be sorry, but it’s true,
When I’m gone you’ll realize
That I’m the best thing to happen to you.
So far away, so far away,
So far away, so far away…
Song #45: ‘Miles Away’ – Summer 2009
Continue reading ...
29
June
2011
Tags: Cologne, Flowers
No comments

Grand Neroli Among Wild Sweet Pea

This is my current summer fragrance – Grand Neroli by Atelier – as seen surrounded by a few sprays of a wild sweet pea (fresh from the garden). This cologne has the distinctive orange blossom scent of Neroli, that is both light and delicate enough for summer. I debated getting Eau d’orange verte by Hermes, but held off on that due to reports on poor sillage. I may try their Eau de Pamplemousse Rose next June, but since we’re almost into July the rose cusp has long since passed. It’s better to be ahead of the curve than behind it.

Much like Lee Bailey’s substituting Digitalis for delphiniums, this was the closest I could get to Tom Ford’s Neroli Portofino from his Private Blend series (and about one third of the cost). Mr. Ford’s version of Neroli is the only one of his Private Blend series that I would consider a good fit in the summer months – the rest of that line is too wonderfully rich and heavy, in a good way, but far more suited to Fall or Winter. In the summer I want my cologne to be light – the heat can be heavy enough. Coupled with the hefty price tag, Ford’s heavenly fragrance will have to wait.

It turns out that Atelier’s Grand Neroli is more than a fine substitute, and may actually be preferable to TF, considering its lighter touch. I don’t know why, but Neroli reminds me of various summer moments – the sound of cool, trickling water in an otherwise-silent space, the still bedroom in Boston as the sun slants across the floor, a sweetly-scented blossom floating in a snifter of water. The moments are half-remembered, half-imagined – like so much of summer seems once it’s passed. For now, it’s just begun.

Continue reading ...
28
June
2011
Tags: Gay, Gay Marriage
No comments

Whoa Sally

Meet Sally Kern. She’s a Republican Rep. in Oklahoma. She, along with Liz Lemery Joy, (whom I dealt with HERE), thinks that being gay is a choice. Both are apparently taking tips from the same book of hate. Ms. Kern, however, has a history of it. Not content to attack gay people, she has also made racist remarks, and ignorant comments about women. As always, an injustice against one person is an injustice against all. Here is one of her statements:

“We have a high percentage of blacks in prison, and that’s tragic, but are they in prison just because they are black or because they don’t want to study as hard in school? I’ve taught school, and I saw a lot of people of color who didn’t study hard because they said the government would take care of them.”

She was no more kind towards women, whom she believed earned less money at their jobs because they “tend to think more about their family, wanting to stay at home more, wanting to be with their family, have more leisure time.”

Hello hateful racial and gender stereotypes. As for her views on homosexuality being a choice, she had more despicable words: “They are not born that way. God would not call something an abomination and make someone where they had no choice. They have the opportunity, they have the power to say no to that lifestyle… None of us gets to choose the temptations we deal with. We are all tempted. We are all sinners. We can all say no to destructive temptations.”

How does my being gay translate into something destructive? And if it is indeed against what God wants, He will deal with me when I meet Him. It has no effect on you, Ms. Kern. If we were all bound to the sins of others, we would all be going to Hell no matter how you spin it.

This is the main point that the Bible-believers miss: you cannot single out one portion of the Bible and use that so literally, while ignoring all the others. And to attribute the portended downfall of civilization to gay people – instead of, let’s say, religious zealots who murder anyone opposed to their beliefs – is absurd. The fact that you’re singling out homosexuals makes it an act of homophobia, in the same way that singling out blacks as lazy is racist.

Continue reading ...
25
June
2011
Tags: Gay, Gay Marriage
No comments

The Power of Gay Marriage

Until an oppression is lifted, you never realize how much it’s been weighing you down. If all your life you’ve been told you are not as good as someone because you are gay – either literally or symbolically – if that’s all you’ve ever known, when the realization comes that you are as good, that you are equal… it’s a big deal. That’s what I’m going through now as New York State becomes the sixth state in the nation to make gay marriage legal.

It feels different when it’s your own rights that are being decided – and when the right decision is made, it feels a little overwhelming. The majority of people won’t ever know what that feels like (that’s why they’re the majority). But for the minority of us who have been denied certain basic human rights – to anyone for that matter who’s been hated or discriminated against for being different – being granted the acknowledgment that we are equal is a big thing. I hate to say that it validates us, because we have always been valid, but in a way that’s what it feels like.

It says we are human.

It says we are worthy.

It says we deserve our love.

As I sit here writing this, with tears once again welling up in my eyes, I am simultaneously touched, saddened, emboldened, and exhilarated that I get to live in this great state, in this great country – where so much is wrong, but where so much can be made right.

I have to admit, until we received it, I never realized how much it bothered me, and how much it worked to silence me. Last night, as we passed people on the way to the gay bars where we were going to celebrate, I walked proudly down the street. It used to be that I would cower a bit and hasten my pace, hoping they wouldn’t notice my white pants or flamboyant shirt. I used to keep my head down and avoid eye contact, remembering moments when someone would shout ‘fag’ at me. Not tonight. I walked with head held high, daring someone to say it. Tonight I felt liberated.

How sad that it was that way, and I wish I’d had that same belief in myself for all these years, but I didn’t. Because no matter how well I carried myself, no matter how confidently I may have come across, internally I never really felt it. That’s what a society that treats you as less than equal has the power to do. It is soul-crushing – it is a stamping-out of one’s spirit, a trampling of one’s heart.

Over the years I put up many barriers and a lot of armor to deal with all my doubts and feelings of inadequacy- a wardrobe to impress, a wit to charm, a nonchalant arrogance and aloofness that was meant to read as ‘I don’t care what you think of me, I’m just as good as you’ but I never, ever truly believed it.

This morning, as the sun begins to peek out from behind a bank of clouds, I’m starting to believe.

Continue reading ...
24
June
2011
Tags: Family
No comments

You Will Not Remember This

Watching my niece and nephew I am struck with the question of how much of this time they will remember – if any of it. I honestly can’t remember anything before the age of four or five – these children are a little over one year old. The things I do remember are vague and random images – the wooden paneling of the family room, the old furniture of my bedroom, the dog’s seizure in the middle of the night. I remember feelings and emotions – the fear at the sight of my brother’s blood as they wheeled him into the emergency room, the sadness at leaving my Mom during the first week of nursery school, the excitement at having my Dad swim in the pool with us. But again, these were all a few years later than the age the twins are now.

Even though they may not remember these days, surely they have an impact on the people these two will become. To that end, the best I can do is surround them with love, protect them from danger and sadness, and make them smile and laugh.

 

Continue reading ...
24
June
2011
Tags: Gay Marriage, Homophobia
No comments

Calling Out the Bigots By Name

At first I was afraid that bringing the topic of gay marriage to such a boiling point would result in an even bigger push-back by those against it. I’m not afraid of that anymore. All that they’re doing is exposing their ignorance and hate. All they can attempt is to stall equality and reveal their own homophobia and bigotry. Case in point: Liz Lemery Joy wrote on her Times Union blog that she was opposed to homosexual marriage. She begins her prejudiced story (yes, Ms. Joy, there is a ‘D’ at the end of the word “prejudiced” when you’re using it as an adjective) with a disclaimer. (All spelling and grammatical errors are her own):

“But, just because someone doesn’t support gay marriage, doesn’t make them a hater, evil, prejudice or a denier of other people’s rights. Nor does it make them homophobic. We can be against it, because God is very clear about homosexuality in His Word.”

Let me be very clear about this too. Ms. Joy is absolutely entitled to her beliefs on gay marriage. She has every right not to support it. However, the moment a person takes those beliefs and begins actively working to prevent gay people from getting legally married, is the moment that person becomes homophobic and bigoted. It’s that simple. When you work to deny the rights of someone based on their race, creed, gender, religion or sexuality, it is bigotry and discrimination.

Ms. Joy goes on to write, “I don’t believe people are born gay. How can I say that? Because God is a good God. He doesn’t purposely create people to be genetically homosexual, and then tell them to live in a way they are not physically or mentally capable of living. That would be cruel and unloving. God is not like that. That would be like saying- God created some people to purposely be stealers, liars, gossipers, adulterers, killers, idol worshipers, slanderers, or drunkards…
However, I do believe there can be strong tendencies towards certain behaviors from one person to another. I may need to resist the temptation to lie more than you. Another person may need to resist the temptation to drink alcohol more than me. Someone else may need to resist the temptation to get into adulteress affairs, or pornography.”

(Sorry, the English major in me has to correct “adulteress” ~ I really think she means “adulterous” in this context.) If we are to buy into her reasoning that it’s not homosexual tendencies that are wrong, but rather the acting on them, then we must apply that same argument to her: it is not the belief against gay marriage that is homophobic, but rather the action of working to prevent it. That is where the real bigotry resides.

She concludes, “I’m urging my legislators to vote no on gay marriage. I’m going to stand by God’s Word.”

Ms. Joy, you can stand by “God’s Word” all you want. That is your right. But by urging your legislators to vote no on gay marriage, and by posting these words in a public forum, those actions are homophobic, hateful, and bigoted. There’s no way around that. Show me the passage in the Bible that says you should be working to prevent gay marriage. It’s not there. See, we can go around and around in these Biblical arguments, but nothing I’ve done in my entire gay life, and in my marriage to another man, will ever come close to the pain, anguish, and suffering you have inflicted on innocent people whose marriages would have absolutely no effect whatsoever on you or your marriage. Where is the Christian love in interfering with two people who love each other? Marrying the man I’ve been with for over ten years did not infringe on your rights or beliefs. Stop infringing on mine.

Continue reading ...
22
June
2011
Tags: Gay, Gay Marriage
No comments

The Rallying Cry of Love

Yesterday Andy and I attended the Rally for Love & Marriage at the State Capitol. It was my first rally, and it was awash in love and respect. The crowd was estimated at around 500, which was way more than I thought would be there. There was some singing and the occasional brief chant (both of which I do not do in public), but more importantly there were supportive speeches by Assembly Persons, Senators, labor reps, and various religious leaders of all denominations. It was a powerful statement on how much of this state supports marriage equality.

Kicking it off was Republican Senator Jim Alesi, who was the first to break ranks with his party and give a definitive ‘Yes’ for marriage equality. Based on the thunderous applause he received, it struck me that the political consequences for supporting marriage equality go both ways. In this instance, Senator Alesi gained a number of fans. Senator Roy McDonald is the only other Republican to indicate his support for the bill, and he’s seen his own support ebb and flow from it. It also struck me that Senator Skelos – the Senate Majority Leader – will likely be held responsible should this bill not come to a vote, and that will have its own political fall-out.

Personally, I would want to be on the right side of history, on the side of equality, but that’s why I’d never make a good politician. For now, the fate of marriage equality rests in the hands of a few Senators in the state where I was born and raised. I hope, and I pray, that they make me proud.

It’s the smart thing to do.
It’s the right thing to do.
And it’s the time to do it.

History will have to record that the greatest tragedy of this period of social transition was not the vitriolic words & the violent actions of the bad people, but the appalling silence & indifference of the good people.
~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

 

Continue reading ...
16
June
2011
Tags: Family, Gay, Gay Marriage
No comments

A Letter from My Mom

No matter what happens with the Senate’s vote (or non-vote) on marriage equality, Andy and I will always have this.
Sometimes the love of a parent ~ and the unconditional support only they can offer ~ means more than anything else in the world. Once again, love trumps injustice, love conquers discrimination, and love obliterates all arguments against itself. That’s what marriage has always been about ~ love. The fact that a strict, practicing Catholic like my Mom can see that is proof that this issue is not about religion.

For me, marriage has only been about love. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? Granted, there are numerous laws and rights that go along with it, but I’ve always considered those beside the point. Andy and I got married because we loved one another, and wanted to make that commitment. How does this threaten the institution of marriage? How does it do anything but embolden and celebrate it?

Those who are opposed to same-sex marriage are, in essence, attacking marriage itself. They are against the whole idea that two people who love each other should be so joined. They are the ones who are turning marriage into something other than the simple union of two people who want to spend their lives together. As for Andy and myself, we’re lucky enough to be surrounded with loving and caring friends and family who fully support our marriage. No legislature, no government, and no religion will ever change that.

Here’s my Mom’s letter as published by the Times Union:

I believe marriage equality will eventually become the law of the land. New York may choose to be one of the first or one of the last states to grant this basic right. I hope we will go down in history as being a leader rather than a follower.

History rarely criticizes societies for granting human rights. On the contrary, it condemns human rights violations. Marriage is an ancient, venerable institution, due the utmost respect. Individuals are also due the utmost respect. Marriage is, in part, a public institution in the sense that it carries legal rights guaranteed by civil law. It is also private in its nature, involving only the married couple.

In 1974, I married a man of a different race. At that time, there were places right here in the United States where my marriage would have been viewed as a crime. The Alabama state Senate did not repeal the ban on interracial marriage until 1999. Yes, 1999.

The arguments against interracial marriage were similar to the arguments against gay marriage, in the sense that they were based on ignorance. My marriage of nearly 37 years has neither undermined nor damaged the institution of marriage. It has had no effect on the marriage of anyone else. Similarly, the marriage of a gay couple could not impair the marriage of any other couple. Unfortunately, these arguments die slowly.

I urge the state Senate to finally pass the Marriage Equality Act. There is no valid reason not to do so.

– Laurel Ilagan, Amsterdam, NY
Continue reading ...
15
June
2011
Tags: General
No comments

The Lost Babies

A pair of finches made a home in one of our hanging ferns. Andy thought that was what they were up to, and once it was confirmed we had to be very careful with the way we watered. We had a happy compromise – the mother would fly away to the dogwood or the pine tree while we insured the plant got its water, then return when we were done. I captured a few photos as well, careful not to disturb or get any human scent near the nest. Birds have been known to abandon nests where they detect foreign smells.

For a week or two we watched the mother guard her nest, and a couple of days ago the eggs finally hatched.

They were so tiny, so helpless, so utterly at the risk of the world. The heartbreaking fragility of life. There were so many things that could hurt them, they had but a precious scant chance to reach their full potential – yet here they were, standing in the face of all reason that such small creatures couldn’t survive. They gave me hope.

When we returned home yesterday, Andy said the finches hadn’t been around all day, which he found strange. As he approached the nest, there was no sound – no screeching mouths of fuzzy babies – and no warning cries of vigilant parents. The birds were gone. They just disappeared.

An empty nest is surely one of the saddest sights to behold. Andy suspected the catbirds he had seen in the area, or possibly one of the neighborhood cats. I didn’t want to entertain those ideas. I took one last photo of the forlorn nest, holding back and forcing myself not to dwell on the Mother’s work, the Father’s guard, and the cries of those tiny birds.

Continue reading ...