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Alas, I have to agree with this sad parody. Not that I don’t think Obama isn’t busy with very important issues. But somehow the queer community, the “queer issues,” are so often shuffled and reshuffled to the bottom of the pile. Again and again. I see it happening with Prop 8 and very much so with Don’t Ask Don’t Tell (which I believe Obama could at least suspend on his own WITHOUT an act of Congress). So I support this courageous president, but I think he needs to up the courage quotient and be courageous in some areas that involve stepping out on a proverbial political limb.

Thanks to LesbianDad for pointing me in the direction of this lovely milk carton.

Trying to keep hope alive

Trying to keep hope alive

I’m trying, but it’s a hard day in the domain of queer rights. I told Q this evening that the judges in CA decided to keep gay marriage illegal. The look of sadness and anger on his face was heartbreaking. Tears were close to the surface. This boy understands. Not only does he understand what the ruling means, but he understands the implications for queer couples and families, for families like his. He told us that anyone should be able to marry who they want. And he was emphatic. And ultimately, I think it’s that simple. But that simplicity is hidden under an ugly tangle of hate, misunderstanding, history, and injustice. And it’s untangling that mess that still needs to happen.

Yes, I want the mess untangled so that other queer folks can get married — tomorrow, next month, next year. But more importantly, I want it untangled so that Q and his peers, when they grow up, see a wide horizon of possibilities. So that they know they lived through change and that change brought with it rights and choices — to marry who they want, to live how they want, to have whatever identity they choose.

Q chooses what identity he steps into on a daily basis. And he makes empowered choices. Little stands in the way of those choices, it seems. And I want him to walk into a future where little stands in the way of anyone’s choices, particularly when it comes to love and partnership and committing one’s love to another.

Q's anti-Prop 8 sign

Q's anti-Prop 8 sign

We were talking today about going clothes shopping.

Q: “Oh! I LOVE clothes shopping!”

Me: “Do you have something in mind that you’re looking for?”

Q (considers for a bit): “Well, a few more ties. Kids’ ties. (pause) And dresses and skirts.”

How cool is that? Ties and dresses and skirts. He’s definitely got a penchant for the fancy, that one.

For a glimpse of the currently beloved tie (always worn with velvet pants), have a look at this video. A bit grainy, but nevertheless….he’s in the back row. (And yes, this is a shameless opportunity to show my pride at his cello-ing).

Thanks to these folks, I now have a large stash of the posters that I wrote about in my previous post.

So, I thought I’d do my first ever blog giveaway!

If you’d like a copy of this poster, leave a comment and I’ll enter you in the drawing. I’ll mail out five copies to folks (I’ll use a random number generator/my wife to choose the numbers corresponding with the comments). Feel free in your comment to say why the poster speaks to you, to share other such resources/blogs, etc.

Looking forward to hearing from folks!

***don’t worry, I went off and found the site and sent them some well-earned cash.

Sometimes I wish that folks could see how ridiculous their objections are. Objections to gay marriage, because, you know, my marriage will make theirs less sacred.

Portia DiRossi recently made a “PSA” about the “ill effects” of gay marriage on folks who are against it. It’s hilarious. Completely hilarious. Have a look.

And let’s hope that some of those pro-prop 8 folks will see and hear how ridiculous their arguments are.

Hey, I can hope, right?

Sharing

The obligatory sharing of beloved princess book with a new (boy) friend.

Hearing in CA supreme court today about the constitutionality of Proposition 8.

Here’s just a smattering of coverage of the day from the internets:

I’m humbled by everyone taking up this struggle in their own way, from arguing directly, to being in the streets, to blogging the events, to donating money, to sending psychic energy….really, I think it all makes a difference in this here global community. And I don’t think it can hurt that Ken Starr seemed to be, shall we say, not in top form….here’s hoping we don’t have to wait the full 90 days for a decision. And that it’s the right decision.

img_2230

Recently, we attended a family wedding. When we first told Q about the wedding, he proclaimed his desire to wear his butterfly skirt and “get all fancy.” He was excited. But it wasn’t really the kind of place where that would work. I know, I know, we could have used it as a growing/learning/pushing boundaries opportunity, but really, other peoples’ weddings are about them, not about us and I think that toning things down, for want of a better word, was totally appropriate.

So we tried to get Q excited about a tie. It could have sparkles! Or Donald Duck! Or rainbows! Or something else wacky. He wasn’t buying it. I was certain we’d have a boy in black velvet pants (fancy yet hard to discern the material from afar) and a knit shirt. Not even one with a collar, as he’s really really not into collars.

Then out comes my brother at Christmas with a tie — a green, purple, and blue tie — some great colors. He bought it, cute guy, failing to realize that it was a kids tie (he’s got his first real out of college job, so we have to cut him some slack). He asked if Q might like it. We told him perhaps, but he never got to actually ask Q.

A month or so later, the tie arrived in the mail. And gracious could this boy have been more excited?!?!? A tie from Uncle S? It was like the best, fanciest thing he had ever gotten, according to his reaction. We had to put it on IMMEDIATELY. This involved wearing a tie with a knit shirt. And me watching a video to learn to tie it (I sheepishly admit). Thank goodness for the internets.

To capitalize on this excitement, I got two button down shirts the next day and he eagerly consented to trying them on with the tie. And then practiced cello in soft pants, button down shirt, and tie. My lovely wife’s jaw dropped upon viewing him.

Fast forward to the wedding and the real point of this post (other than getting back on the blogging bandwagon which I have recently fallen off hard). Q wore his tie, his button down shirt, his black velvet pants (and his snazzy zipper boots) to the wedding. And I can’t tell you how many people said the following,

“That boy or yours is so beautiful!”

And that, my friends, is amazing. Because, yes, I think he’s beautiful all the time. He loves feeling beautiful. But boys are so rarely equated with beauty. Especially in their “male fancies,” such as ties. And it’s not that I want the world to think Q is good looking. It’s the fact that folks could look at him and reach in their hearts to name their reaction and to call it beauty. Not to say he’s handsome. Or dashing. Or good looking. Or will make all the girls swoon. Or some other gendered compliment. No, they saw beauty. Which is what I see every day, but I think it’s hard for some to name when it comes to boys.

My beautiful boy!

My beautiful boy!

Is this really necessary? I like this company usually, but please.

Is this necessary?

Is this necessary?

I usually like this company. They do some good stuff, but really.

Please.