I knew this election year was going to be different. I knew something needed to be different.
Let me just say I’ve been a proud Hillary supporter through all of this and just like many of those who were devastated when she didn’t win the nomination, I too had to really believe that Barack Obama would be the right choice. I would never do anything crazy, like vote Republican. I did need to know that my vote was something I could stand behind 100%.
You see, this election is the first time I felt that I actually mattered. Not my vote, per se, but that someone truly was looking at for my moral being. Being gay in these elections usually means having to choose between which candidate is less ashamed of supporting gay rights.
This election, I’m closer in age to the Presidential candidate than I am the hot shot NBA star.
This election, we got to hear 2 candidates methodically work through the nomination process across the US and back and really want me to talk about what I was hearing and what I wasn’t hearing. Asking why? And hearing answers instead of deflection.
This election I actually watched, really watched, for the first time the Democratic National Convention and finally understood what it feels like to hear speeches that inspire, infuse and demand that hope is alive and well.
This election, I see how Al Gore’s message of every vote counts isn’t just about the ballot box; It’s about each person’s obligation to speak up and have a say publically, is as important as which candidate you choose behind a voting booth curtain.
This election, I didn’t see the candidate’s name, I saw “Change”.
My very favorite part of Barack’s speech last night “…What the naysayers don't understand is that this election has never been about me. It's about you. It's about you.”
Finally, I get it.
I’ve been gay and out for about 12 years. It’s interesting to see how life has changed for gays and towards gays during this time.
I remember when Ellen came out and it was all anyone could talk about and gays gathered around our tvs and watched her character say “I’m gay”. I don’t think I ever truly understood the power that moment had on the LGBT community.
I remember when Matthew Shephard died. And this time the gays gathered in the streets …we were angry.
I remember 8 years ago during the election when “gay rights” was neck and neck with abortion rights. We all know where that value statement got us.
I remember when we all knew the same 5 gay out celebrities: KD Lang, Melissa Etheridge, RuPaul, Boy George and Richard Simmons (I’ll go out on a limb with the last one).
I remember when Will & Grace was the only ‘gay’ show on tv.
All within that last 12 years…
Which is why the past 2 weeks has really blown my mind. Not only did Ellen Degeneres marry her partner…scratch that, her wife, Portia, their wedding photo was the cover of People magazine. People magazine!?
A gay diver won the Olympic gold medal but mostly people focused on the fact that it wasn’t a Chinese diver. Few if any similarities of Greg Louganis were mentioned.
The Democratic National Convention is appealing to the LGBT community vs repealing or sidestepping it. We have delegates. Lots and lots of delegates! Hell we have gotten mentions in nearly every speech and who didn’t catch the “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants Suits” comment. You know what I mean *wink*.
Which brings me to today. Today Del Martin passed away. Del was an amazing lesbian activist all her life. She and her partner were together for 55 years and the 18 million cracks in the glass ceiling that Hillary made this year can’t compare to the truly amazing grassroots campaign Del and Phyllis have worked on for the past half century for gay and lesbian rights.
Perhaps Del’s passing is confirmation our fight to “Be” and “Be Gay” is finally over. Of course there is the pesky Don’t Ask Don’t Tell thing and the other 48 states that don’t recognize gay marriage…yet.
Maybe if I wait 2 more weeks I’ll see what I can do about that.
Dear Minneapolis Airport,
I was more than happy to visit your city for a day trip. Even though it's 60 in Chicago for opening day for the Cubs. Sure, Minneapolis, you got a shitload of snow and it hasn't stopped falling since I got here at 8am. I was more than happy to bid you farewell for my scheduled 5pm departure.
I did not anticipate you would not only cancel my scheduled 5pm flight but take the liberty of rescheduling me on a flight that would leave tomorrow at 2:17PM. Did you not notice I had no luggage and had no intention of staying the night?
I was thrilled when the customer service person offered to confirm a seat on the 6:40pm back to Midway. Despite the fact that my car is at O'Hare I was more than happy to cab it across town to get my car.
You were kind enough to put me on stand by for the 4pm. A pipe dream- really.
I took a chance and asked the gate agent for the 6:40pm that was delayed till 7:50 if you had any seats on the 7pm O'Hare flight. You did! You took mercy on me and upgraded me to 1st class.
Bless you gate agent.
And though 7pm came and went I felt confident I would get home tonight. You kept me updated. My 7pm flight got delayed to 7:20, 7:40, 8:25, 9pm, 9:05...then you made the happy announcement that my inbound aircraft had landed. WOO HOO!!! Only a few more minutes.
Then nothing. No plane. The poor gate agent whom I had been so kind made the announcement that our flight had been cancelled! You directed me back to ticketing.
Ticketing is the kiss of death! That is almost a certain overnight stay.
But I had the golden ticket-- I had a first class ticket that I didn't pay for nor earn. I breezed past the group to the first class checkin...hey I did have a ticket. I wasn't line jumping!
One seat left on the 10:16pm to O'Hare. You were just as surprised as I was but you gave it to me. So here I sit with my 2nd first class ticket on my 6th potential outbound flight.
Please Minneapolis Airport. Please don't make me wear the same underwear two days in a row.
Signed,
Seat 3D
In a recent conversation, the topic shifted to instruments and specifically what instruments do you play?
I instantly had a panic attack regarding my grade school musical past.
In the 2nd grade my parents bought an organ. My mom thought it would be a nifty idea for all of us to learn how to play it so she found a flyer at the grocery store for an organ teacher. In walks Mrs. Harshman.
Mrs. Harshman was an odd duck. Even at 8yrs old I thought she was a piece of work. She was old and had this very precarious mole on her face that I felt was going to fall off any second and she had really long hair that she would constantly unravel and re-ravel into a bun.
Every Tuesday after school we took turns at the organ for 30 minutes while Mrs. Harshman and the metronome tapped out a beat. I was always the last to go (mostly because I hated it) and Mrs. Harshman's lesson seem to fade into her taking a nap on the chair next to me.
After a year my organ commitment was over and never had to play an instrument again.
Until 5th grade. 5th grade I was the official entry into "the band" and everyone seemed to play something even if it was only for a quarter.I wanted to play the clarinet. My parents felt I wouldn't commit to it like my organ days (Jesus I was only 8). So instead of letting me have a clarinet they said I had to play the trombone.
Why the trombone? Because we had one in the garage and if I was gonna flake on another instrument they didn't want to shell out anymore cash. (Thanks for believing in me).
I 'played' the trombone for a year. I hated it too. Mostly I hated carrying that big ass trombone case on the bus every day. Or maybe I hated that it was too big for me. In order to reach 7th position I had to sit on a chair and anchor the placement with my foot because my 10yr old arm was too short to reach. Sad, really.
The best part about the trombone is that I wrote a story about it in college that won me first place in our literary magazine and a wad of cash to go with!
I guess to answer the question, I don't play any instruments today.
