Saturday, February 14, 2004

My favorite kind of weather: gray, rainy. It's very quiet out. Today is our ninth anniversary, the ninth anniversary of our first fuck. And it's Valentine's Day, too-- hokey, but true. Is it terrible that we haven't planned anything romantic? We don't exchange gifts anymore, either.

We lounge around the living room with the cats, drinking coffee. Scott reads the paper. I read Disco Bloodbath. I see the lesbians across the street, already up and playing with their kids. Scott says City Hall is issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples. Gavin Newsom authorized it. They're going to stay open through the three-day weekend to accommodate as many people as possible. Huh? We're stunned. We sort of laugh. What's the point if it doesn't provide any actual rights? I've always agreed with Joni Mitchell: We don't need no piece of paper from the City Hall, keeping us tied and true…

We don't do much until dinner. We both really need to crash this weekend. Things have been so stressful.

Dinner at Fino is fun, but the only topic of conversation is gay marriage. All the other diners are straight couples on Valentine's Day dates. Carol brings her friend Joan the Jewelry Designer. They want to know what we think of gay marriage, and if we'll get married. "Get married" sounds so stupid I can't even say it. We try to explain our doubts and lack of interest without sounding too negative, but it's hard. I don't even really know what I think. I don't want to seem like a downer; the excitement around this thing is palpable. I say I haven't seen many examples of good marriages, so why would I want to get married? Plus, we don't want to feel like we have to emulate straight people in order to gain respect. Carol says she wants to throw us a ten-year anniversary party next year.

After dinner, we go to Julie's 30 th birthday party at Jade bar. We're among the first to arrive, as usual, because we want to leave by 10. Early to bed, even on weekends. I talk to Renata for quite a while. She wants to know what we think about the marriages. I say I've heard it could be dangerous for same-sex couples to get married, because they might lose the rights they already have through California's domestic partnership registration. Wrong answer. I see her face drop. Kate, a girl I haven't met before, bubbles over telling me how many of her friends just got married. I smile and fake enthusiasm. When Paul arrives later, he tells me his partner is now a father--he donated his sperm to a lesbian, and the baby was born just a few days ago. I think Scott and I are the only gay people in this city who aren't married with children.

Monday, February 16, 2004

Since City Hall began issuing licenses, about 2,000 same-sex couples have been married. It's huge. People are coming from all over to do it, and there's the predictable media frenzy. On the front page today are two white, 30ish Ken dolls, with perfect skin, perfect hair, and perfect teeth, getting married at City Hall, each with a baby strapped to his chest. They're the poster couple. I'm getting calls and emails from friends, either announcing their marriages or asking about ours. Strangely, no one in our families mentions it. Scott's dad calls with an update on his mother's health. He seems like he has a question to ask, but doesn't ask it.

I'm afraid that all the gay people we know will get married. Where will that leave us--"living together"? "Single"? I was just getting used to "partnered." Will there be tiers of gayness, more than there already are? Will Scott and I be considered less gay than those who are married, or less respectable? Will we have to attend hundreds of wedding receptions and bring presents? I've always hated weddings and spending money on wedding presents. It's so unfair. Why should I have to buy gifts just because some teenagers fucked without a condom? And then they get instant respect and benefits just because they're married. And then they get divorced a year later and keep the presents…

We hang around most of the day, reading, playing with the cats. Larry invites me to perform the Brahms Clarinet Trio later this year. I haven't played it before, so I get the score and start working on it. It's beautiful.

We have dinner at Bill and Daria's. Janet, another guest, tells us that she'll address the issue of gay marriage at the Christian school where she teaches, risking complaints from students and parents. She's already had complaints for expressing liberal views. All she wants to say is that not everyone has the same beliefs concerning how people may live their lives. She's not advocating either side.

Later at home we notice that poor Bev's flea allergy is worse, and she's licking at the fur on her legs. We need to take her to the vet soon.

Tuesday, February 17, 2004

Back to work after the three-day weekend. Everyone talks about gay marriage. People ask me excitedly if I got married. I want to laugh, or shout, NO ONE GOT MARRIED! IT ISN'T LEGAL! Of course, the Michaels and the Peters were among the first couples to get married. I tell Jack I don't want to get married, I think the whole thing's stupid. He says he and his partner will. He says it's not so much about marriage per se; it's civil disobedience. I have to admit he has a good point. It's exciting to think of thousands of people engaged in this, and now other cities in other states are considering the same thing. Is this the beginning of a huge movement?

Maybe Scott and I should get married. But Scott has to go out of town later this month, and he'll be gone for a week. I think we're too busy until he leaves, and then my sister's coming to stay. Would we have to dress up? And then we'd have to tell our friends, and then people would want us to have a celebration, and they'd be disappointed if we didn't. We'd have to invite everyone to make sure we didn't offend anyone. I don't know--I don't really feel like planning a big social event right now.

Thursday, February 26, 2004

Jack and his partner were supposed to get married over the weekend, but now you have to have an appointment--you can't just show up. He says it takes a whole day to make the appointment, and the appointments are several weeks out. I'm pretty sure we won't be able to do it now. I have the number, but I won't have time to call.

People from all over the world are sending flowers to the couples standing in line. Rosie and Kelli fly in and get married. City Hall bumps the little people off line to let the beautiful people in. Local celebs too, like Sharon Smith and her latest. Gavin Newsom is in the news everywhere. People are surprised that he took this action, especially so early in his tenure. In spite of my mixed feelings about gay marriage, I'm glad I voted for him.

During my sister's visit, she never asks if Scott and I got married. No one in our families mentions it. What if we had been married? I don't think our families want to know, and they certainly wouldn't want to celebrate or recognize our marriage. If we got married, I don't think I'd tell them. It would just be uncomfortable for everyone. They might feel obligated to do something nice, but I'd know they were really feeling put out, and then I'd feel guilty. And it would be embarrassing for them, because other people might ask about us and they'd have to tell, or lie.

On my walk home from work I overhear a woman on the street say, "We're considered a blended family." What the fuck? I feel like watching one of those weird Elizabeth Taylor movies, like Secret Ceremony, but I can't find one on. I eat a handful of white chocolate chips from Trader Joe's--they taste like wax. I eat another handful: still waxy. I eat some organic dark chocolate--only a little sharper. I always get bored like this when Scott's gone. I can't imagine what I'd do if we weren't together. I love him so much.

Monday, March 1, 2004

Scott gets back from his trip this afternoon. We have martinis at Trax, then beer and pizza at Magnolia. Back at home we watch Queer Eye and drink 12-year-old Balvenie, the double-cask kind. Scott's talking about redecorating our flat. I get hungry again and make a chocolate Atkins shake with Carnation malt powder in it. I want more Balvenie 12, but it would probably taste bad after the shake.

Monday, March 8, 2004

I don't feel well today so I stay home from work. I watch All About Eve on TiVo and finish the white chocolate chips. They don't taste so waxy today, and lying there eating and watching the movie feels so luxurious, it's better than sex! I wonder about that weird voice Marilyn used--the words aren't clearly formed.

At one point I go out for groceries. I notice that everyone on the street has one or two of those tiny dogs, those trendy tiny, super tiny-tiny fucking dogs. How can a trend hit the realm of pet-owning so hard? Suddenly everyone in the city has this dog. I saw a man in Metro bar with the tiniest dog in his shirt. It sure got him a lot of attention.

Thursday, March 11, 2004

City Hall's been ordered to stop issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples, so I guess it's over, at least for now, but there's speculation that the marriages will be upheld.

After work we make manhattans and watch an American Masters special on Balanchine. It's good. There's supposed to be another one soon on Joni Mitchell.

Did we just sit around on our asses and miss out on the most important historical and political event in our lives? Yes. No. Have we become too jaded and cynical? Are we too self-involved? No. Maybe. Are we afraid of commitment? Are we unsure of our relationship's future? Maybe. No! Are we so furious at straight people and white people and middle-class people and Republicans and married people and parents and politicians and home owners that we can't even think straight? Yes. No. Probably.

I've finished learning the Brahms and start working on several Hindemith sonatas for another program. Bev keeps licking at her fur, and her legs are quite bare. She looks pretty funny (or sad). We use a bug bomb and extra doses of Advantage, which seems to help, but we'll probably need to get a professional exterminator at some point. I'm not sure when we can, though.

Go back to the I Do/I Don't page.

"My Old Man"
from I Do/I Don't: Queers on Marriage © 2004 David Christensen