Yesterday, Chief U.S. District Judge Walker overturned California’s Prop 8, almost two years after it’s passing. Thank you, California. It’s nice to know that in the state I’ve spent all my 29 years of life and have paid taxes in for the past 11, I’m no longer considered a second-class citizen. I am now free to get married to the man of my dreams.
I’ll admit, I never really gave marriage much thought. I guess, in part, due to the lack of good marriage role models growing up. My parents were never married, well not to each other anyway. My dad was married for 50+ years and my mother was his dirty mistress on the side for around 11. My mom never married and the woman who I considered and loved as my grandmother was divorced twice and has been single longer than I’ve been alive. All in all marriage just never seemed that important to me. That was until California voters decided I couldn’t have it. To me, it was like being on a diet and wanting some chocolate chunky cake when I never even really crave cake all that much. Well I didn’t want it until you said I couldn’t have it.
Now, thanks to the judge’s ruling finding Prop 8 unconstitutional, I can have my cake and feed it into the mouth of my husband for the photo op too. I’ll be the first to admit that I am not political at all. I don’t really follow politics except for a month before elections. Shame on me, it really is something I’ve been trying to work on. I might not understand all the ins-and-outs of the ruling and feel free to edumacate me if I’m totally wrong on something but come on! How are you going to take away a gay man’s right to bridal registry?! That’s just inhumane.
Who do straight guys send to go shopping with their girlfriends when they don’t want to do it? The gay best friend. I can’t even begin to tell you how many shopping trips I’ve been on where I sit on the stool in the dressing room only to tell her that that dress looks faboosh, those sunglasses look ferosh, or that she needs to put those pants back because they make her thighs look huge. Who do you think is at Ikea helping your girlfriend pick out curtains and home accessories when you two finally move in together? The Gusbands of America are! (For those who don’t know, gusband = gay husband. TM by my wife, Patrice.) We’re the ones who you call on when you don’t want to do the wedding planning, now let us have our turn. We promise we won’t make you help. You don’t know how to do it anyway.
Assuming I now have all the legal rights that “regular” married folks have, I’m glad that when I adopt my brown babies from a third-world country, both my husband and I will have full rights as their legal parents. Now quick, someone go find me Carlos Bocanegra so I can marry him before the next judge overturns the ruling and I go back to being a second-class citizen.
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