God, gay marriage and one furious man
I know a man in Riverside named Harvey who goes ballistic whenever I broach the subject of Proposition 8, which would ban same-sex marriages in California. His eyes narrow, his voice rises and he gets absolutely squeaky with rage over the possibility of Gus and Homer getting married.
Gus and Homer are not their real names. They live down the block from Harvey and try to be as friendly as possible even though they know he loathes them. They have been together for years and only recently have begun talking about tying the knot.
Harvey, being an evangelical Christian, cannot stand the idea of two men walking down the street holding hands, much less indulging in more intimate expressions of love in the privacy of their bedroom. He considers himself a real man and would gladly beat the crap out of both Gus and Homer if they weren't bigger and stronger than he is.
I personally don't care about what anyone does in his bedroom or who marries whom.
Gays seem to be the only ones who actually want to be married anyhow.
Heterosexuals have taken to just playing house until the glow wears off, maybe through the weekend.
I was thinking about this the other day and created a ritual for those who would like to legitimize a temporary arrangement, not through holy matrimony, but through a ceremony of holy relationship, which is the key word in today's random coupling.
It would in some ways soothe the consciences of the more sensitive rutting couples and save money on gowns and rings.
My relationship ritual would begin, "Do you, Susan, take Roger as your temporary sexual partner to have and to hold as long as the weekend shall last? And do you, Roger, promise to lust, perform and pay for dinner and drinks until the Monday you do part? Therefore in the name of Bacchus and Aphrodite, I now pronounce you hunk and hot mama. You may pour the cosmopolitans."
I mentioned my idea to Harvey, who didn't think it was a bit funny because, you see, he doesn't think much of anything is funny. I recall that he almost laughed once at a humorous comment by Sarah Palin on television but then realized it was Tina Fey; he had accidentally turned on "Saturday Night Live," the program bent on the destruction of morality, or what's left of it. He hasn't laughed since.
Harvey, by the way, considers Palin a great American even though she does happen to be a woman and he doesn't feel women should vote or lead. I keep in touch with him because it gives me inroads into the blurry thinking of the religious right.
