Since June 26 at 10 a.m. New York Time, I've been waiting for the end of Western civilizationor the end of life as we know it in, well, fill in the blank of city, state and country. Waiting for their threats to come true, that storms and lightning and bad things in general will happen because people are free to marry whomever they love. Sorry to let the right wing know the obvious, but they do seem to miss the obvious so it's good to point these things out. Storms and lightning and bad things happen and will happen, whether there is same-sex marriage or not.
However, I pretty much don't understand their concept of a God that is selective in retribution over only this issue and not some other issues.
And then we were promised various immolations and divorces. They are of course free to do as they wish. No one has taken away their freedom to do something stupid, to overreact, or to misunderstand the world. Their issue. Their problem.
What I don't get is that why are the promised immolations and divorces coming only after the whole country has the freedom to marry whomever they wish? Maybe I missed the earlier promises, but why didn't they immolate or divorce after the first marriage in Massachusetts? Or after the second marriage there? Or after the third state or the fifth state permitted it? The horror is only a horror if it is a fifty state issue? So it's the size of the jurisdiction that makes the difference?
So that's them.
Me, I knew I was going to be in New York when the Supreme Court ruled. I decided early on that I wanted to be outside the Stonewall Inn when the decision came down. If I was lucky enough to be in New York, I figured where would there be a better place to be?
In preparation I reread the books Stonewall by David Carter and Stonewall by Martin Duberman. I even rewatched the 1995 movie Stonewall. Frederick Weller was hot as Matty Dean back then. In the most recent thing I saw him in, Frederick Weller was still hot.
I was glad I went back to those items. It doesn't take much to stir my sense of outrage at how we were treated at that time, throughout history, and still too often today.
So being at the Stonewall seemed right. If there was going to be a victory, why not go back to the flashpoint of gay rights? Why not be at the epicenter of where our movement blossomed?
No one was sure which day the decision would be announced. So I walked over Thursday. It was quiet in Christopher Park and in front of the Stonewall.
Lots of people mistakenly call the park across from the Stonewall Sheridan Square. While Christopher Park does have a statue of General Sheridan, Sheridan Square is around the corner and a short way down the street.
But alas, Thursday, it was not to be.
So I trudged over early Friday.
When I got there before nine the park was quiet. There was no one in front of the Stonewall. A few older people sat on the benches in the park. That's kind of what some of us old people do. And there was one loud young person on the phone. That's kind of what some young people do.
So I got a cup of coffee in the Starbucks a few steps away.
And waited.
I forget who has a live blog commentary thing on the Supreme Court. I've run across it several times. It's people typing in a conversation, commenting live on what is going on inside the Court.
It started streaming a few seconds after 10 a.m. New York time. I followed along on my computer. First, they said that Justice Kennedy was reading the decision and my hope soared. That's because I've been given to understand that the justice who has written the decision for the majority reads the decision. And if it was Kennedy who had written it, the justice who had supported us so often in the past, then I had hope.
And in minutes the decision was confirmed. I'm afraid I sat and wept. Tears of joy. Tears of overwhelming emotion. Tears for all the work that should never have been necessary. Tears for all those who are not here to see this day.
Even now writing this the next day at another Starbucks in Manhattan in the East Village, I tear up.
But Friday morning on the streets of New York, I wept and I smiled. The crowd around the Stonewall and at Christopher Park was maybe 60 people when the cheers broke out. Maybe it was slightly more than 100 people by the time I left an hour and a half later. There were lots of people taking pictures. Reporters from what looked like every major news outlet in New York were there with their big vans and logos. They were talking to people and filming. But it was a quiet crowd. Smiling and of good cheer. People taking pictures in front of the Inn itself, of each other, of happy couples, with happy couples holding hands, giving each other kisses. Being there at such a moment of great good news was a tremendous joy. How far we've come! It was a day for great celebration!
If I was much younger and not as portly, I'd have danced down the streets shouting for joy. As it was, I stopped at Veniero's, an Italian pastry shop on 11th street near where I'm stayingnot as good, I'm afraid, as Danish kringle from Racine. But the Italian pastry did quite nicely, with a dash of ice cream to wash it all down.
And I got back to the place I'm staying, and I watched the news on line. I saw that a celebration was planned at the Stonewall around 6 p.m. I knew I could walk back over and join the throng, but I'd been there at the crucial moment. It would be a joy to share the thrill, and if I were 30 years younger and not as portly and hadn't walked over four miles back and forth over the island of Manhattan already that day, I might have. I thought I could actually see more if I watched it on television.
I teared up at various times while watching the news: when I saw Katie Couric's interview with Jim Obergefell, when I watched the phone call from President Obama to Jim Obergefell, when I watched President Obama's comments at the White House. And I remember how glad I was to have voted for him, and how he has made such a difference in our lives. If it were not for his appointments to the Supreme Court, we most likely would not have had this day. Could you imagine who either of the men who ran against him in 2008 or 2012 would have appointed as justices to vacancies on the Court? Does anyone really think those appointments would have been on our side? We'd still be in the dark ages of injustice.
And, yes, there is still work to be done. Prejudice, as we know all too well, never ends. The Jews of Krakow had lived, for a large part, in peace with their neighbors for seven hundred years. And then the mad men took it from them in a few short years. Yes, we know it's not over and that prejudice is always with us. Reality, as we all know, can be a bitch, and a little or even a lot depressing, but we all know how the world works.
For today, we have great joy and good promise. Really, what more can we expect? That there will be a great bonfire of self-immolated bigots that will rid of us of all their stupidity and blindness? A horrific but unfortunately amusing moment to contemplate, but quite unlikely.
No, we'll have to live with these folks, as we have all of our lives. And all of our children's lives. But some weeks are more bright with promise than others. This was a week of great promise and great joy. I, for one, am going to celebrate some more. Reality will be there waiting whether I want it to be or not.
Great joy to us all!