The Agenda:

Testing the Premise: Are Gays a Threat to Our Children?

What the "Dutch Study" Really Says About Gay Couples

Federal Hate Crime Statistics: Why The Numbers Don't Add Up

Refuting Christianity Today

  Favorites:

Still Life At Sunset

Anderson Cooper and Scooter

Wandering, Wondering

The Aperture of Memory

Easter's Birthday

The First Time I Cussed

  Photo Essays:

The Anasazi Ruins of Chaco Canyon, New Mexico

Monsoons of 2004

Miracle Mile

Now Showing / Reflection on Hayden, Arizona

More Light Than Heat
Sunday, February 29, 2004

Newspapers, radio, television and internet are all abuzz with the controversy over gay marriage. The more I look at the arguments both pro and con, I find very little thoughtful discussion on the topic. Instead I find a lot of heated arguments based on gut reactions. More heat than light, you might say. I've decided to do my part to change that.

The February 16, 2004 issue of Christianity Today carried a commentary supporting a ban on gay marriages. I decided to write a refutation of that article. It's rather long, but I hope you find the time to read it. And by all means, pass it on.

Refuting Christianity Today
Sunday, February 29, 2004

The conservative magazine Christianity Today has published an article entitled “Speaking Out: Why Gay Marriage Would Be Harmful” by authors Robert Benne and Gerald McDermott, professors at Roanoke College. In it, the authors methodically lay out their reasoning why gay marriage should not be legalized in this country, and to their credit, they largely leave religious considerations and straw-man arguments out of their assertions. This, I think, makes their arguments worthy of reading and consideration, and worthy of an honest attempt to refute with the same care, honesty and dignity that they demonstrate in their article. I will attempt to do just that.

Messrs. Benne and McDermott distill their arguments to three concise points: that “gay marriage would be 1) bad for marriage, 2) bad for children, and 3) bad for society.” As they take these points one at a time, so shall I:

1. “The first casualty of the acceptance of gay marriage would be the very definition of marriage itself.”

Here, the argument begins as follows: “For thousands of years and in every Western society marriage has meant the life-long union of a man and a woman. Such a statement about marriage is what philosophers call an analytic proposition. The concept of marriage necessarily includes the idea of a man and a woman committing themselves to each other.”

The whole problem with this line of defense is that it is widely recognized as “circular logic”. Define the term, then use the definition that you offered to defend the concept of the term. This of course gets us nowhere.

But if we’re going to attempt to define marriage, let’s talk about who really is defining marriage and by what criteria. All of the current arguments center on the states and the federal definition of marriage – the legal definition. While philosophers are useful in these matters, they are by no means binding. So, let’s keep ourselves to the specific arguments at hand.

Before 1996, with the passage of the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA), there was only a broad understanding of marriage on the federal level. The specifics of who could and could not marry was (and still is) left to the individual states. Further, before the 18^th century, states did not get involved with determining who was married to whom – it was strictly a religious activity. However problems arose when laws were enacted outlining what husbands and wives were and were not entitled to, and it soon became necessary to determine who could legally claim to be married to whom. It was at this time in the late 1700’s that some states began the initial steps of registering marriages, and to determine who could actually be married. According to Cynthia Crossen of The Wall Street Journal, this marked the government’s first act of granting permission to marry.

However even then, registration was not a requirement in order for a marriage to be valid. These so-called common-law marriages were the norm, particularly on the frontier where preachers and civil servants weren’t readily accessible. Every genealogist today understands the difficulty in obtaining civil marriage records before the middle of the 19^th century. For many parts of the country, common-law marriages had legal standing right up through the early part of the 20^th century, and in a few states, even to this very day.

When states finally got into the act of deciding who could marry who, several restrictions were introduced into the definition of marriage, and the most disturbing of these restrictions were racial ones. These racial restrictions were often cited on religious and moral grounds, and varied from state to state. Today, those racial restrictions no longer exist. The legislatures (and indeed sometimes the courts when the states refused to act) redefined who was allowed to marry who by dropping the racial restrictions.

Messrs. Benne and McDermott assert that “scrambling the definition of marriage will be a shock to our fundamental understanding of human social relations and institutions.” Indeed, racially-mixed marriages were very shocking on these very same levels, and are still not widely accepted in some circles of society. However, shock alone is not a good reason for prohibiting marriage by a class of people.

The potentially thorniest issue Messrs. Benne and McDermott bring up, is the famed promiscuity of homosexual men. They quote Andrew Sullivan, who contended, “there is more likely to be a greater understanding of the need for extramarital outlets between two men than between a man and a woman.” And they quote Troy Perry of the Metropolitan Community Church in Dallas who said, “Because we can’t marry, we have people with widely varying opinions as to what that (fidelity) means. Some would say that committed couples could have multiple sexual partners as long as there’s no deception.”

I confess a very strong personal sympathy with Messrs. Benne and McDermott when it comes to fidelity. Any couple going into a marriage with attitudes like those expressed by Sullivan and Perry is not going in with a mature relationship. Indeed, such marriages are very likely to be very unstable, much like the estimated fifty-percent of heterosexual marriages which currently end in divorce. Rick Hampton and Karen S Peterson of USA Today cite specific studies that show that anywhere from 25% to 60% of all heterosexual men had at least one extramarital affair sometime in their life. With statistics like these, infidelity is by no means a homosexual problem, it is a societal one. Conservatives are right: infidelity undermines the stability of families and society as a whole, and is catastrophic for children.

But let's say for the sake of argument, if homosexuals as a group were more inclined– even if they were much more inclined – towards infidelity, should that mean that every faithful gay couple should be denied marriage because others are inclined to behave badly? With statistics showing many heterosexuals behave badly as well, it seems to be a strange form of singling-out. Even if more homosexuals per capita behave badly than heterosexuals, it is still unfair to deny faithful homosexuals the right to marry, just as it would be unfair to deny faithful heterosexuals the right to marry.

Unfortunately, I know of no reliable fidelity-inclination test that can be applied at the registrar’s office. If one exists, I’d be all for using it. If the crux of Messrs. Benne and McDermott argument is that their side is better behaved than our side, they will need to come up with a different argument that does not include a double standard.

Messrs. Benne and McDermott then go on to quote a few exceptionally radical professors on gay marriage being the first step towards legalizing polyamory, a tactic that we laymen might recognize as a “red herring”. This is the familiar slippery-slope argument, although to their credit they shunned the more outrageous specters of bestiality, incest, and pedophilia. But as it is a simple line to draw against other species, relatives, and the and the capacity to consent, it’s also just as easy to limit the quantity of partners without discriminating against a class of people. If retailers can enforce limited quantities for sale items without tramping on anybody’s right to make a purchase, we can do the same here with marriage. It’s just not that difficult.

2. “Gay marriage would be bad for children.”

Messrs. Benne and McDermott claim that research shows that “children raised by homosexuals were more dissatisfied with their own gender, suffer a greater rate of molestation within the family, and have homosexual experiences more often.”

This is the most damning spectacle that opponents of gay marriage conjure. If true, it would be a frightening and dangerous spectacle indeed. It is however the “blood libel” against the gay community. Messrs. Benne and McDermott do not actually offer any supporting research to support their claims. Indeed, a number of studies dispute all of these claims, especially the claim to greater molestation (see “Kurt Freund & Robin Watson, 1989 and 1992; also Carole Jenny, Tom Roesler, & Kimberly Poyer, 1994). The data simply does not support the outrageous charges made against homosexual couples raising children, or homosexuals in general. In fact, Freund & Watson demonstrated that heterosexual man are slightly more inclined to molest underage girls than homosexual men are inclined to molest boys.

It is a terrible and undeniable truth that horrible things happen to children in many families. Crime statistics show that significant numbers of step-daughters are raped by their step-fathers. There is however no proposal to prohibit remarriage of heterosexual couples where children are involved. Such a proposition would be ludicrous. We cannot deny the majority of good and decent people the right to remarry because a tiny minority uses that opportunity to commit crimes against children. By the same token, there is no reason to deny the vast majority of gay couples the right to marry based on what a very small minority may or may not do.

Messrs. Benne and McDermott go on to claim that gay marriage will “encourage teens who are unsure of their sexuality to embrace a lifestyle that suffers from high rates of suicide, depression, HIV, drug abuse, STD’s and other pathogens.” This claim ignores the effects of marginalization on these rates of pathologies. Other marginalized groups, such as African-Americans, also suffer very high rates for many of these problems, and they suffer not because they’re gay, but because they’re marginalized. It’s the marginalization (I hate using the word oppression – its too politically-charged to be useful anymore) which drives men and women to expressions of despair and reckless behavior as indicated by most of these pathologies.

On the topic of HIV and other STD’s (which the authors threw in for good measure), they did not attempt to assess the effects of lack of access to reliable medical information. Our current administration is complicit in this problem. For example, at the start of the Bush Administration, the Centers for Disease Control removed all information from their website about condom usage and protection against HIV and other STD’s, and this information remains missing to this very day. And the Republican-controlled Congress has sharply cut and sometimes eliminated educational programs which do not meet the litmus test of advocating abstinence to the exclusion of all other solid medical information, and they’ve not only done this domestically, but have attempted to do this on the international stage as well.

Messrs. Benne and McDermott end this point by saying, “finally, acceptance of gay marriage will strengthen the notion that marriage is primarily about adult yearnings for intimacy and is not essentially connected to raising children.” They offer no evidence that this is true of all, or even a majority of gay couples. Given the number of gay couples that are working hard to adopt children to raise as their own, it cannot be entirely true.

But let’s assume that it is true. It has never been the purpose of the state to determine why a couple wishes to be married, but whether. Elderly couples marry, so do infertile couples. Couples who for various moral, economic, and even trivial reasons take steps to ensure that they will not have children are also permitted to marry.

While raising children may be a moral argument for the purpose of marriage, the states have never weighed in on the “essentiality” of raising children for a marriage. The closest that the states have come to this position is the little-used grounds for annulment which can be claimed if one spouse is infertile and the other spouse was deceived on that fact at the time of the wedding. But even there, this is a legal claim that is made after the wedding takes place. It has never been something which must be demonstrated in order to obtain recognition of marriage, at least not in the civil sphere.

Messrs. Benne and McDermott close by saying, “Children will be hurt by those who will too easily bail out of a marriage because it is not ‘fulfilling’ to them.” I would have to agree with them wholeheartedly. Marriage should not be seen a cause for personal fulfillment, and I too believe that many couples fall into this trap. When children are involved, the whole equation must change, yet far too often it doesn’t. But while this may be an argument for prohibiting immature and selfish people from marrying (if such a prohibition could be enforced), it is not an argument for prohibiting gay people from marrying.

3. "Gay marriage would be bad for society."

This argument rests on two rather thin political problems. The first one is this: “The effects we have described above will have strong repercussions on a society that is already having trouble maintaining wholesome stability in marriage and family life. If marriage and families are the foundation for a healthy society, introducing more uncertainty and instability in them will be bad for society.”

I know of no surveys on this subject, but I would wager a good fortune that a principle reason gays feel so passionate about the subject of gay marriage is that they too believe that marriage and families are the foundation for a healthy society. It’s what we all want, deep down. The men and women you see on CNN lined up at City Hall in San Francisco have been dreaming their entire lives of the day when they could join the mainstream, to live together as a family, and to contribute towards the stability of society.

For it is true what conservatives say: marriage strengthens the family, it strengthens the couple, and it does that because marriage is a bond that is widely recognized as uniting that couple together as one. When you’re married, you’re no longer two individuals, you’re a couple, and married couples are naturally compelled to work harder to make it work. When you’re merely cohabitating, you don’t have to work as hard. It’s as easy to leave as renting a U-Haul, and that is an inherently uncertain and unstable situation.

This is that very “uncertainty and instability” that Messrs. Benne and McDermott would have us avoid. On this point, they offer an excellent argument against cohabitation, but a poor argument against gay marriage. Yet today, cohabitation is the only option available to gay men and women. Let gay men and women marry, and they’ll take care of the uncertainty themselves.

Their last supporting argument that gay marriage would be bad for society goes like this: “We believe that gay marriage can only be imposed by activist judges, not by the democratic will of the people. The vast majority of people define marriage as the life-long union of a man and a woman. They will strongly resist definition.”

We can quibble over what “vast majority” means, but I’m willing to concede that many scientific surveys show that varying margins of a majority (slim to wide, depending on how the polls were worded) oppose gay marriage. Similar majorities opposed racially-mixed marriages some thirty years ago. Times change, and so do attitudes. There are still those who disapprove of racially-mixed marriages, but those numbers have declined rapidly. But they didn’t start declining until “activist judges” struck down various state laws restricting such marriages when legislatures failed to act.

If we had waited until legislatures got around to changing the laws in many of these states, justice for many couples would have been delayed at least another generation. And if we wait until the general public ceases to “strongly resist definition” for mixed-racial marriages, couples in a few parts of the country would still be waiting.

This generation of gay men and women is no longer willing to wait.

A Simple Question
Wednesday, February 25, 2004

Christopher asked, "Are you happy?"

"Yes", I replied.

He then asked, "How do you know when you're happy?"

I had to think about it for several months.

□■□■□

Meditation at 3:00 in the Morning

Happiness is a smile and a word and a kiss. It is the warm sigh you feel on the back of your neck before sleep takes you. The world wraps you in its arms; your lover holds you close.

For happiness allows you to love, to be in his arms, to be in his warmth, to be warmed by his breath, and to sleep.

Happiness is love’s desire, as when love is summoned against the raging storms. Love buttresses the sanctuary against the ravages of the tempest; happiness is sheltered therein, dancing lightly as a flame upon the tabernacle candle, dancing merrily against the howl of the wind, dancing gaily on that candle in the Presence of the Holy One.

And happiness in turn strengthens the resolve to love when the harsh winds blow.

Happiness is the tissue wrapping a rare gift. It is set aside when the gift is taken out of the box, and if you're not careful it floats away with the lightest breeze. Some will see the gift it once wrapped now gathering dust on a shelf and this will make them sad, but they do not understand.

For happiness is not the gift; it makes the finest gift possible, the sweetest of gifts, – and it is simple and free and light as tissue.

Happiness is a sharp word, spoken in pain or anger, the word that threatens, the word that cannot be taken back, but instead must be held to account in apology, and is thus regretted with the deepest of regret.

For there is nothing to regret if you are not afraid of loosing happiness.

Happiness is fear, the strained silence of the day that is not shattered by the telephone; the waiting that is not relieved by that telephone call to say that everything is fine, the absence of the reassuring voice on the phone that might have said the tests are normal.

For there is nothing to fear if you are not afraid of loosing happiness.

Happiness is a story told to the sound of laughter. (Beware! Do not confuse happiness with laughter.) It is the story that is well told and well lived. And it is the story of a life, yet all life must come to an end as the story must come to an end – and yet still there is rejoicing in the end, and laughter.

For there is nothing to rejoice but the life that is lived in happiness.

Happiness is the keepsake that is lost, the keepsake that was given to you by your lover. You were entrusted to keep this thing and remember, but now it is lost, never to be seen again. It is sad to loose something so dear, yet there is happiness in this as well.

For there is much to remember in the memory of love expressed.

Happiness is the memory of the smile and the word and the kiss. It is the memory of the warm sigh you felt on the back of the neck before sleep took you. The world wrapped you in its arms; your lover held you close.

For happiness allowed you to love, to be in his arms, to be in his warmth, to be warmed by his breath, and it will allow you to sleep again when you are ready.

Keeping Up with the Kids These Days
Sunday, February 22, 2004

I’m sitting in the coolest coffee shop in Tucson, dressed in black. Black is cool. It is what the artists and intellectuals wear. Black is the new black. Cool people dressed in black in the coffee shop are all typing away on their notebook computers. I am typing away on my notebook computer too. How cool is that?

Uh-oh! The guy next to me pulls out his mp3 player. I don’t have one. Damn! I’m not cool anymore! Well, okay, I’m still cool, just not as cool as him. Besides, he looks like the type who would be playing something completely uncool on his iPod. Like Clay Aiken for chrissakes.

Okay, I know, strictly speaking, that an iPod is not an mp3 player. That’s not the point.

I’m typing away and wishing the Sage had Wi-Fi. What’s up with that? It is really impinging on my coolness factor not being able to Google cool bands on my notebook computer while drinking espresso. Chris and I heard a song this morning on the radio, but we never heard the band’s name. It might be Jonny Lang, except it’s completely different from the rest of his otherwise bluesy oeuvre. I bet iPod Boy has no idea what I’m talking about. Him and his iPod.

Anyway, everyone is typing away on their sleek new PowerBooks. PowerBooks are made by Apple. They are all sleek and stylish and very thin. Thin is in, you know.

Mine’s a Sony. It’s an Intel/Microsoft machine. It’s not as young and sleek as a PowerBook. But that’s okay. I tell myself I am comfortable with my computer. I don’t need to compare myself with the fashionable models featured on magazine covers and store windows.

But then, when I stuff my computer into my sleek leather bag, I have to groan as I pull the leather up around the sides of the computer. And when I finally have it all stuffed into place and the zippers zipped and the snaps snapped, the bag ends up with these, I dunno, unsightly bulges.

I turn to Chris and I say, “Oh god. Does this bag make my computer look fat?”

"Oh, no dear," he says, "it looks fine just the way it is."

That does it. I’m getting an iPod.

Dreams Really Do Come True
Thursday, February 19, 2004

So, I’ve attended a meeting at a hotel which is now is over, and I need to get back to my own hotel where the other half of the conference is taking place, and I don’t have much time to get there. I run down to the lobby and look around for transportation and I find that there are no taxis in sight, but there are a few buses. Unfortunately, the buses aren’t marked with route numbers or any other signs saying where they’re going. Besides, even if there were route numbers on the buses it wouldn’t do me any good because there are no route maps anywhere to be found. People I’ve never seen before are numbly boarding the buses, so I approach one group of people and ask where is this bus going? They look at me blankly and say they don’t know. I ask why are you getting on this bus then? They mumble something to the effect that they have to get to where they need to be at a certain time very soon, like almost now, and the only way to get there is to take the bus. But, I ask, how do you know this is the right bus? They say all they know is they have to take a bus to get there, this is a bus, so they’re taking this one. At this point, I’m completely incredulous. That’s when I shout, “Why on earth would anybody get on this bus without knowing where it’s going?”

When I wake up, I already have a knot in my stomach from feeling stressed, tired, and frustrated. Great. This is how I get to go to work.

So, I attended this meeting at work, where we’ve just heard them explain that the purpose of this meeting is to agree that they are ready to begin FQT, a defense industry acronym for Final Qualification Test. The meeting is called a TRR – Test Readiness Review. This is where the board certifies that they are ready to begin FQT. I know these acronyms get confusing to outsiders. This defense business is full of TLA’s to keep track of, TLA being an acronym for Three-Letter Acronym.

Anyway.

FQT is the last thing you do when you’re on a major development program. In order to claim success, to say that this thing you developed does what it is supposed to do, you have to prove it by undergoing FQT to certify that it is fully compliant. It’s how you get paid for developing a great new gizmo, so it’s a really big deal. And you don’t get to start your Final Qualification Test until you convince the principals in a Test Readiness Review that you’re ready to begin. After all, the last thing you want to do is to flunk an FQT.

So, we sat at the TRR for two and a half hours listening to them explain that they are ready for FQT. Except there are things that aren’t finished yet, specifications that aren’t released yet, parts of the software they already know doesn’t work yet, and there are other things they need that they don’t have yet. Other than that, they’re ready to start FQT. Except because they don’t have everything finished or released or working or available, they will have another thing that they’re calling a mini-FQT next month. Now, a normal person would ask why are you doing an FQT now? Why not wait until you’re really ready and do it next month? Well, the schedule says it’s due this month, and that’s why the boss says by god they’re starting this not-quite-final Final Qualification Test now. Don’t worry about the stuff that’s missing. That’s why they’ll have the no-kidding final mini-FQT next month, one month after it’s supposed to complete, and by the way the “mini” part of the mini-FQT gets bigger and bigger as the meeting drags on because of all the things they either didn’t think about or all of the things we find that still needs to be done. But don’t worry, they’ll somehow figure everything out next month. After all it’s a whole other month away and they need to get past this FQT in order to meet schedule, even though it won’t really be final anyway and everything will really be late after all.

That’s when I shout, “Why on earth would anybody get on this bus without knowing where it’s going?”

Dubya's a Post Turtle
Thursday, February 19, 2004

Read this about George Dubya being a Post Turtle, and be prepared to laugh your cajones off.

¿Que Es Mas Macho?
Monday, February 16, 2004

NOTE: If you don't speak Spanish, just pass your mouse over the bold-faced words for a translation.

Tubac is Nogales for people who are afraid to cross the border into Nogales. Nogales is Mexico for people who loathe Mexico, but I want to save that discussion for another day because I love Mexico and I really don’t want to leave it at that.

Yesterday, Chris and I spent a wonderful day in Nogales, but we made the mistake of stopping at Tubac where we were able to soak in the Mexicoland atmosphere that permeates much of southern Arizona. You know, the Mexico that Disney would have built if they had come here. But they didn’t, and we have the developer’s version instead. And it's a known fact that far more developers have visited Disneyland than Mexico. They loved their stay in Disneyland, especially the allure of visiting so many exotic locales without having to encounter non-air conditioned, non-English speaking, non-deoderant using, non-Polo wearing, non-dollar spending, non-Buick driving, non-backyard barbecuing, non-us people.

Now the thing is, most of these Arizona developers did manage to study a year of Spanish in high school some twenty-five years ago. And while they would never want to actually live within a thousand miles of a developing country (and some would be very shocked to learn that, in fact, they do), they love to evoke the romance of foreign lands so very far away in their imaginations, the easiest way of doing this being giving their projects Spanish names. And the beautiful thing is, they don’t have to bother with worrying about whether the names make any sense whatsoever to a native Spanish speaker, or even whether they are spelled correctly. Nothing sells a house faster in Tucson's Mexicoland of Enchantment than a Spanish name to go with it. Except maybe a free trip to Mexico's own Mexicoland, otherwise known as Cancun.

The problem is, many of these faux-Spanish names have some of the most basic grammatical errors that no three-year-old in Nogales would make. That's because these developers have have made it only as far as Tubac themselves before their wives fell in love with the lovely Mexican glassware imported from the lovely Mexican villages of Shenzhen and Huangshi. These poor developers never traveled that last fifteen miles to the border, and never bothered to learn anything about those faraway lands they seek to evoke. Or if they did, they never had to speak much to an actual foreigner, except to struggle to say something like "Yo no mandé este!" or "Traiga las maletas a mi cuarto."

That’s why these developers give subdivisions such embarrassing nonsense monikers as Vista de la Viento del Sol or Alto Mira de la Montaña Bonito, and these subdivisions are crossed with streets like Calle del Rio del Fuego de la Boca del Mar de la Bamba. Cheesy you say? Of course, but when you're building fantasyland for Mickey Mouse, you really don't want to let too much reality intrude on your dreams. Lots of prepositions and articles (like de la, del, a la, and so forth) help to add that extra touch of je ne sais quoi.

You think I'm exaggerating? Well try to explain this: there is a street and apartment complex in Tucson called San Ventana. I swear – as Huitzilopotchli is my witness – I didn't make this one up. Isn't anyone else embarrassed by this?

There ought to be a law: White people cannot name anything in any other language except English.

When I grow up, I’m going to be a builder except I am going to bring a refreshing truth to my advertising. I will get by it in a subversive way and nobody will be the wiser. It’s easy; I've got it all figured out. I’ll build a subdivision called Vista de la Carreterra, and have streets in that subdivision bearing some incredibly lyrical names like Camino de los Camiónes, or Avenida de los Borrachos, or Via de los Descenso Valores. And my street, where I will proudly make my home, will be named Calle del Puto Lindo.

The Times, They Might Be Changin'
Saturday, February 14, 2004

Here is a cool website I found late last night, sponsored by the American Dialect Society. I don’t know much about the society, but their 2003 Words of the Year tally was very interesting. Metrosexual ended up coming in at first place as Word Or Phrase of the Year for 2003. An amusing also-ran was zhuzh (v., to plump up, fluff up, or primp), which came in fourth.

I must say, it’s fun being with the in crowd for a change. I’m pretty sure I’ve never been hip before. It sure beats those old nerve-wracking self-loathing days in high school. Now if only the Bamboo Club and La Placita would stop seating us near the restrooms.

Oh, yeah. That and the marriage thing.

For Christopher
Saturday, February 14, 2004

Of the Terrible Doubt of Appearances
From Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman

Of the terrible doubt of appearances,

Of the uncertainty after all—that we may be deluded,

That may-be reliance and hope are but speculations after all,

That may-be identity beyond the grave is a beautiful fable only,

May-be the things I perceive—the animals, plants, men, hills, shining and flowing waters,

The skies of day and night—colors, densities, forms—May-be these are, (as doubtless they are,) only apparitions, and the real something has yet to be known;

(How often they dart out of themselves, as if to confound me and mock me!

How often I think neither I know, nor any man knows, aught of them;)

May-be seeming to me what they are, (as doubtless they indeed but seem,) as from my present point of view—And might prove, (as of course they would,) naught of what they appear, or naught any how, from entirely changed points of view;

—To me, these, and the like of these, are curiously answer’d by my lovers, my dear friends;

When he whom I love travels with me, or sits a long while holding me by the hand,

When the subtle air, the impalpable, the sense that words and reason hold not, surround us and pervade us,

Then I am charged with untold and untellable wisdom—I am silent—I require nothing further,

I cannot answer the question of appearances, or that of identity beyond the grave;

But I walk or sit indifferent—I am satisfied,

He ahold of my hand has completely satisfied me.

Raise Your Hands
Wednesday, February 11, 2004

Surprisingly enough, this Advocate article has the most even-handed – you might even say sympathetic – account of the American Airlines Pilot who asked all the Christians on his flight to raise their hands and witness to their fellow heathens. It got me thinking about a witnessing opportunity that has now fallen onto my lap.

It seems my entry Recognizing Tiny Tim has spawned a lot of interest. First, Homer posted his list of celebrity sightings, and a lot of people posted tons of good comments on his website about their own celebrity sightings. Then Panchesco weighed in with his always entertaining take on the celebrities with whom he’s crossed paths. And now, over the past two days there has been a huge spike in visitors to this web site due to Corky’s posting on the same subject. This substantially larger audience now places a tremendous burden on me as a calling has been placed upon my heart, and I feel I must take advantage of it quickly because it’s not likely to last very long.

Our homosexual recruitment drive is nearing its goal, but this is no time to slack off. We’re falling terribly behind in accomplishing the goals of the Homosexual Agenda. So I’d like all of the homosexuals on this flight to raise your hands. Thank you. Now I want you to look around at how crazy these people are. I strongly recommend that you make good use of this flight to talk with them about how you were recruited into our friendly little cult. Go on, don’t be shy.

Say Amen, somebody!

Recognizing Tiny
Monday, February 9, 2004

Chris and I are sitting in the Raging Sage on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. This is such a great coffee shop for people-watching. There’s a guy at the counter from the Canary Islands flirting with the barista. Her co-worker is now at the counter also, and the three of them are talking about travels and language barriers around the world. Meanwhile, other customers are coming and going, each contributing small pieces of their presence to the collage.

I think maybe I’m just a little over-stimulated by blogging. Two people in the coffee shop remind me of bloggers who I’ve read. They look sorta like their pictures, but not quite. The guy ahead of me in line, the one who forgot his wallet, looks a little like Panchesco, but I’ve never met him, and besides, this guy is a little beefier and I don't know, not quite the same as the photo, so I don’t know for sure. In fact, the more I look, the more I think it probably isn't. Someone else in the patio looks like another blogger whose name escapes me at the moment. Who knows – it might be him, but again, probably not.

I don’t have a very strong visual memory, and it’s often difficult for me to connect faces and names with a great deal of certainty. Pictures are much too static for me, and I better recognize people by those small movements and gestures and other aspects of their presence than I do by distinct physical features. It's like that mule deer that was in my backyard a few months after I moved in. He kept looking in my direction as I stood perfectly still on the back porch. As long as I remained motionless, he couldn't quite make me out exactly. He looked directly at me, but it was clear he couldn't really see me. When I made just the slightest movement of my head, he suddenly understood what he was looking at and took off up the hill. I'm like that mule deer. It's motion that leaves an impression on me. Occasionally a very good photograph may convey an animation that makes me say it looks like the person in the photo, but it's rare. I'm more likely to say that he doesn't quite look like his picture, and it's mostly because his picture is perfectly still in a way that nobody is in real life. I'd probably be an unreliable witness if I had to pick a suspect out of a police photo lineup.

So, nobody looks like their photographs to me. And add to that the fact that I’m a little shy. That's why I just I sit and speculate – isn’t that guy over there the one I’m thinking of?

This is why I never see famous people.

Chris lived in San Francisco for twenty years and has seen a lot of famous people in the art gallery he worked at and elsewhere around town. Of course, he is a self-described cesspool of popular culture, and there are quite a few more celebrities per capita in San Francisco than there are in Tucson. He has a story about the time Condoleezza Rice came into the art gallery – before anyone knew who she was – and purchased a painting. He only remembered her for being an extremely elegant, intelligent woman with refined taste and a very unusual, memorable name. It wasn’t until some fifteen years later that he would hear about her again and learn more about who she was.

Chris has lots of stories like that. He has stories about running into Bill Clinton, Steven Jobs, Beau Bridges, Michael Stipe, Ray Bradbury (Chris has a signed sketch from him), Kurt Russell, David Cassidy, and many others. A few celebrities he recognized immediately, many others he didn’t figure out until much later. Like the time he kept asking, “Yeah, I heard you say Halston, but what is your first name?”

Me, I never recognize anybody. I think about the billions of people who live on this crowded planet, and figure that the odds of that lady sitting over there in the corner being that girl who had that minor part in a movie I saw four years ago as being ridiculously stacked against me. I’m much more likely to look at someone and say, “He looks a lot like George Stephanopoulos, except maybe a little thinner and shorter.”

I'm guessing George hears that a lot.

I’m always embarrassed to run into someone I know but don't recognize until they start talking to me. Then I wonder how I could have been so oblivious. And these are people I know. Any famous person I don't personally know would have to hit me over the head with a ton of paparazzi before I begin to accept that, okay maybe, he might really be who he looks like. Like the time I saw Ricky Schroeder at a shopping mall in Dallas. I knew right away it was him because there was a huge thirty-foot banner over his head that read “Meet Ricky Schroeder”.

And I saw someone else famous, someone who is so unlike anyone else on the planet that there was no mistaking him or explaining him away. Ten billion people on ten billion planets would never produce anyone else remotely similar to him, and on seeing him there was no way I could ever think it was someone else who just happened to look a little like him. So he remains to this day my one and only unaided celebrity sighting: Tiny Tim in the concourse of the St. Louis airport.

Everybody's a Star, Baby!
Sunday, February 8, 2004

Two of our friends went with Chris and me to Phoenix Thursday to see a David Bowie concert at the Dodge Theater. What an incredible show!It’s hard to believe he’s fifty-seven, although it was not the sort of concert that David would have put on if he was any younger. Gone are the days of Ziggy Stardust and the Thin White Duke. Instead, we saw a performer who, when he sang “I’m the lucky one”, you knew he sang it with a genuine gratitude that only comes from the perspective of time.

His show was marked by a lot of banter and good-natured ribbing with the crowd. The entire concert was very conversational. David was not so much of a performer as he was the host of a really big party. That’s something else that only comes with maturity and self-confidence. Here was a man who was truly enjoying himself and having a great time with people he enjoyed hanging with. Which coincidently happened to be about 4,800 people in Phoenix. Even though I was clear up in the balcony, he looked right at me. I just know it, but that’s another story.

After the concert, Chris told me the story of a friend of his who was staying at the W Hotel in New York and was sitting on a loveseat in the lobby. A good looking blonde Brit sat down next to her, and just looked around like he was waiting for someone. She looked at him and decided to strike up a conversation: “You… are you?... you look like David Bowie.”

“I am.”

Chris said that they went on to just talk about apartment renovations and real-estate brokers and other mundane stuff for about a half an hour before whoever David was waiting for showed up. He was very friendly, personable, and rather ordinary.

So, who was the star on that loveseat? David, or Chris’ friend? David said everybody’s a star. I know David Bowie wrote that song, although to be perfectly honest I don’t know his music well enough to know exactly what the song says. Besides, my point isn’t to lionize him, but I thought a lot this past weekend about how people approach each other. I was thinking more in the context of strangers, but I don’t see why friends and family would be any different.

Everybody’s a star. Everybody has a story to tell.

□■□■□

Chris turned to me at lunch yesterday and asked, “What is art?” I thought about it a little bit, and decided that the word “art” has lost its meaning. Chris’ paintings are art. I can’t dispute that – it fits every definition of high modern minimalist art, and I’m his biggest fan. But what about the stuff of Thomas Kincade, the so-called “painter of light”? Forgive me if I don’t provide you with a link to his website. I cannot accept that schlock as being anything that deserves the name of “art”. Yet I’m not in the crowd that looks at his garbage (my opinion!) and can see it as such. It’s junk in my book, yet it’s art to others. The work of Marcel Duchamp is art, although he stirred a very heated controversy on that point. The really bad décor of the overwrought corporate fantasy Mexican Restaurant in Scottsdale where Chris posed the question is art. Unfortunately. Art, when used as a point of discrimination, will only serve to separate the insiders from the outsiders, the sophisticates from the rubes, and to diminish those who don’t “get it”. Art used any other way is just decoration, and includes all of the copper kokopelli’s that blanket the tacky suburban homes of Arizona. So like I said, the word “art” has lost its meaning.

Why did I digress on that subject? It was another thread that wove through my thoughts this weekend. Everybody’s a star and art doesn’t exist. That’s where I am today.

I’m beginning to think that the Zen masters had it right. Drop the words. They just get in the way.

□■□■□

But you know, the notion that everybody’s a star may not be a bad place to start. At least there, I might treat people with interest. Wouldn’t it be nice to treat people with some level of fascination going in? To go in on the assumption that this person is about to tell you something that will blow you away? I think the people that I most feel good being around are those who exhibit this level of fascination with just about everybody. And they are able to do this regardless of politics, religion, or any other orientation or expectation.

My dad used to say that a broken clock is right twice a day. It was his way of saying that even the most ignorant fool can still have something to offer. I suppose I’d like to try to extrapolate that a bit and assume that every poor joe has something fascinating to show. And to get to that gem, maybe it is my task to drop my own notions of what is art, what is intelligence, what is sophistication, or even what is good. And just be patient and wait for that moment to come, and be prepared to see it when it does. It doesn’t mean that I can’t be discerning in the end, but maybe I can save the discerning until the end.

□■□■□

My favorite poem was published in Parabola Magazine (Summer, 1994) entitled “One Train May Hide Another” by Kenneth Koch. I was thrilled to find an online version of this poem so you can read the whole thing. The poem is based on a sign posted at a railroad crossing in Kenya:

     In a poem, one line may hide another line,
     As at a train crossing, one train may hide another train.
     That is, if you are waiting to cross
     The tracks, wait to do it for one moment at
     Least after the first train is gone.  And so when you read
     Wait until you have read the next line —
     Then it is safe to go on reading…

The poem goes on like that with many more examples of why you should wait and observe a little more before concluding you have something figured out:

□■□■□

So, don't be in such a rush to draw conclusions about everyone you meet or who think you already know. Everybody’s a star. And that Kokopelli necklace you have on, well… what can I say? I’m really glad you enjoy it because someone worked really hard on it.

◄ January 2004
► March 2004

The Sweepstakes
Wednesday, February 4, 2004

Announcer: The jockeys have entered the starting gates, preparing for the start of the quadrennial Democratic Sweepstakes. In the post position is Screamin’ Dean. From the post to the outside is Lieberman’s Revenge, Veteran Kerry, Edwards’ Comfort, The General, Sharpton’s Wig, and Kucinich Mistake on the outside. Even though Lieberman’s Revenge won the prelims and has enjoyed the support of the best trainers, he has stumbled in the past several. Bob, how do you handicap this race?

Color Commentator: Well, Screamin’ Dean was the odds-on favorite up until a week ago when he had that bad stumble coming out of the gate in Hampshire Downs. This surprised everyone because he had been doing so much of his training there. Lieberman’s Revenge enjoyed the best trainers in the business, but it looks like today’s favorite is Veteran Kerry, with Edwards’ Comfort and The General fighting to place.

Announcer: The race is about to begin, the horses are at the gates — Aaaaaand… They’re off!

Veteran Kerry has jumped out to the quick lead, with Edwards’ Comfort following closely behind, followed by The General in the straightaway as they pass through Delaware.

On to the bend at South Carolina and now – look at this – Edwards’ Comfort has pulled commandingly into the lead!

Color Commentator: This is not much of a surprise. This is where Edwards’ Comfort runs the best, although there was some concern that Sharpton’s Wig might try to trip him up. Sharpton’s Wig is now in third, which is unusual showing for him.

Announcer: Yes, it’s Edwards’ Comfort in the lead, followed by Veteran Kerry and Sharpton’s Wig, then The General, Screamin’ Dean, Lieberman’s Remorse, with Kucinich Mistake pulling up the rear.

Now they’ve rounded the curve and are off on the straightaway to Oklahoma where it looks like a tie for the lead between Edwards’ Comfort and The General, and Veteran Kelly has fallen back to third place.

On to Missouri, and whoa – look at this! Veteran Kerry has put on the juice and pulled way out in front. It looks like if he can hang onto this lead he’ll take the winner’s circle. He’s maintaining this lead through North Dakota, but Edwards’ Comfort is not letting up. Meanwhile it looks like Lieberman’s Remorse has dropped out of the race completely.

Color Commentator: Lieberman’s Remorse hasn’t been able to keep up with the others in any of the other races up through today. It must be a huge disappointment for him and everyone who backed what ended up being wrong horse.

Announcer: On to New Mexico, it’s Veteran Kerry, Edwards’ Comfort and The General – one, two, three! What a great race, sports fans! And now, in the final stretch in Arizona, its official! Veteran Kerry crossed the finish line, followed by The General to place and Edwards’ Comfort to show.

Color Commentator: Well, it looks like this is Veteran Kerry’s moment to shine, but the Super Tuesday Sweepstakes in two weeks will have everyone back again, and this time you can bet they’ll keep Veteran Kerry in their sights.

Announcer: So, for tonight’s race, it’s Veteran Kerry in the winner’s circle, with a fine showing by Edwards’ Comfort and The General. Screamin’ Dean has had another disappointing showing, Lieberman’s Remorse is out altogether, Sharpton Wig vows to keep going despite the odds, and Kucinich Mistake is still grazing the tall grass in Cleveland.

We hope you enjoyed tonight’s race. Tune in next time for another fine running of the Democratic Quadrennial. Goodnight.