The Marrying Kind

I Have a Change of Address

2010-05-06T09:48:00.000-07:00

Come read my blog at:

www.themarryingkind.org/blog

Heading to the Principal's

2010-04-07T11:59:00.000-07:00

I'm always a little nervous when I think back on High School, because I was really unhappy then and sick a lot. I was certainly the kind of kid who would have been sent to a fake prom. I mean if I had gone to the prom, and if my classmates had ever dreamed of doing such a thing. Oh, and if in my Catholic school anyone would have ever dared bring a same-sex date.

Water under the bridge...

Today I wrote to Constance's principal about the whole mess;

My letter's below:

Dear Ms. McNeece,

I'm deeply saddened by the events that took place during your school's recent prom(s). It is always difficult to acknowledge what extreme capacity for cruelty we, as human beings, have. It reminds me how much work we all still have to do.

The events of last weekend can not be altered. Most of your high school's senior class--with the support of their parents--willfully shunned a small minority of students by their duplicitous act. What they did was perhaps within their legal rights, but clearly it was morally wrong. And not the kind of behavior that should be tolerated.

I am not writing asking you to punish or expel these students--I realize you can not expel an entire graduating class. I am writing in hopes that you will truly seize this moment to educate your students and your community. Perhaps you and your staff will find a gift in this horrific event. You have been given an opportunity to create change. A chance to engage in dialogue. You have this time now to talk to your students. Discover what fears they hold so deeply within themselves that would cause them to act with such disregard toward these few ostracized classmates. Explain to them that it is the acceptance of our differences--not the rejection-- that makes us, as a society, flourish.

Right now great leadership is called for. I believe if you take charge and act you will transform this moment.

I have spent the last several years writing a novel about marriage equality called, "The Marrying Kind." It will be published later this summer. The story is sweet and funny but also challenges us all to stand up against injustice. If you would find it helpful for me to plan a trip to come and talk to your students and staff about equality, I'd be honored to assist you.

Sincerely,

Ken O'Neill

The Stuff of Nightmares

2010-04-05T11:59:00.000-07:00

Perhaps because my book is coming out in a few months and so I'm feeling a little more stressed than usual, I've been having some unsettling dreams. In addition to being a writer, I am also a licensed massage therapist. The other night I dreamt that a real life client of mine named Paul came over for a session. He pulled off all of his clothes, started to hop up on the table and then stopped. He stood before me naked and said, "I just want to thank you for never once, in all the times you've massaged me, ever making an issue out of the fact that I am transgender.

I want to make it clear that I would not find it at all unsettling to massage a transgender person. I did however find the dream unsettling because Paul isn't transgender. In the dream I became confused. Was this man who I have seen naked multiple times actually born female? Or was Paul just messing with me. I wasn't sure but I was leaning toward the later explanation.

The dream reminded me of other dreams I've had, like when you show up at a party and you're suddenly aware you've gone to the wrong place and you panic because you're lost and you don't know how to get to where you really belong. And then, if you're me, you realize you forgot to wear any pants.

And you wake up. Thank God. And it was all just a bad dream.

Only sometimes it's not a dream. Sometimes, something terrible has really happened.

On Friday night Constance McMillen-- the high school girl from Mississippi who has gotten so much attention for wanting to take her girlfriend to the prom-- arrived at the event to discover there were only a few other students in attendance.

The rumors that this event was created to keep Constance from attending the "real prom" have not been confirmed. But as far as I see it there are only two possibilities.

Either Constance was at the real prom but no one else would go because there was going to be a lesbian there.

OR:

There was a real prom some place else that Constance wasn't told about because she's a lesbian.

I'm not sure which explanation I find more despicable.

I'll leave it up to you. Feel free to weigh in.

The Catholic League Prepares for Holy Week.

2010-03-31T12:40:00.000-07:00

It's holy week.

For believers, it's the most solemn week of the year. A time of prayer, reflection and repentance.

It's a time to remember Jesus not merely as man, but as God. To think of his death and glorious Resurrection--his gift to mankind.

It's also a time for the faithful to remember to act like Jesus. To strive at all times to be Christ-like.

And so I was saddened to read in The "New York Times" that Catholic League president, Bill Donohue, chose to run an add blaming gays for the church's insidious pedophilia epidemic instead of owning up to the Vatican's shameful attempts to cover up abuse.

Wayne Bessen, Executive director of Truth Wins Outs, had this to say about the ad. “We should remind Donohue that there is no child sexual abuse crisis in gay community centers, neighborhoods, churches or social organizations. This nightmare has to do with Catholic pedophile priests and those who served as their enablers. The Catholic League thinks it is mounting a defense, but it is only exacerbating the pain felt by the defenseless who were taken advantage of by authority figures in the church.”

I believe that It is possible for the church to recover from even this heinous crime. But not without remembering that the church is made up of men, not God. And all men are capable of sin. Even Popes.

After we sin, at least as I was taught in Catechism, we ask for forgiveness. We do not blame others.

We take responsibility. We are humble.

We are penitent.

I hope that someday soon the church will recall its teachings.

Major Celebrities Help Jonathan & Gregory!

2010-03-26T10:04:00.000-07:00

It's funny how fame works.

At this moment, I have 440 fans on facebook. By contrast, though I don't have the exact figure, Ellen has more than two million.

True, Ellen is seen on television everyday. Whereas I have what can best be described as a cult following.

I don't even need to use Ellen's last name for you to know who I mean. If I were to attempt going by one name, I would most likely be mistaken for Barbie's boyfriend--a dashing fellow. But, in fact, not who I am.

Here's my dilemma. I'd been thinking that my fan base--my star power, if you will-- was great enough to assure a victory for Jonathan and Gregory (Jonory) in the Crate and Barrel Ultimate Wedding Contest. But now I'm having doubts.

Maybe Ellen and I, because we're both famous, should partner on this project. You know, like Co-Chair the event to make sure that it's truly a success.

I think it's not a bad idea.

Inexplicably, though I've searched my address book, I seem not to be able to find her phone number. I mean we're both queer and celebrities, how can I not have her number? I've obviously misplaced it.

But with so little time--just six days-- I have another idea.

Why not just obsessively post to her fan sites. You know, like all day long.

Of course, I can't do it all day long because my personal assistant is off today.

But if I, a celebrity, can find the time to post three or four times, surly you, a normal person, can do it once or twice?

If not for Jonory, well then for me, Ken O'Neill

Oh, and if you do get a hold of Ellen give her my love.

Have her people call my people. We'll do lunch.

http://www.ultimateweddingcontest.com/entries/22682

Like so Much Trash

2010-03-24T13:19:00.000-07:00

My first impulse always is to give up and lie down. Get a big blanket, throw it over my head. Retreat from the world.

Maybe eat a cookie. A cookie would be good.

I'm not doing that, not even the cookie part. Instead I'm typing--two finger style. It's not much, but it's something.

When I feel like I can't do anything to help--when I'm forced to face ugliness in the world--my default emotion is hopelessness.

And then I remember that I've made this challenging decision to be present in the world. To be (God help me) a role model.

And so I don't give into despair.

This is my way of explaining why it is that I'm not hiding (with a bag of cookies) now that I've learned that Derrick Martin's parents have thrown him out of the house upon discovering that he had the nerve to be a well-adjusted, smart and personable, gay high school senior, instead of what they would clearly prefer, a self-loathing, deeply-closeted, suicidal one.

For those of you who don't know Derrick Martin is the Georgia High School senior who successfully petitioned his school to allow him to bring a same-sex date to the prom.

I don't know this young man, but my guess is he had a sense of his parent's views on homosexuality before he decided to take a male date to the prom. Derrick's actions can only be described as heroic. He made a choice to value his integrity more than his personal safety. (I think it's he, not I, who is the role model.)

I don't believe any parent is ever really surprised when they find out their child is gay or lesbian. Somewhere inside of themselves they know. And they have always known.

I feel fairly confident saying that this is also true of Derrick's parents. And so what to make of their shocking act of neglect and abuse? My guess is Derrick is not being punished for being gay. He's being punished for having the audacity of being proud of who he is. He's been tossed out for having courage and conviction. I'm not a parent, but it's my understanding that courage and conviction are traits to be encouraged and nurtured, not to be scorned.

His parents have cut him loose for being a leader. If he was quiet. If he wept and begged forgiveness things might be different. If only he tried to change, was repentant, remorseful, played the part of the sinner--he'd still have a bed.

But what would the cost of that behavior be on his soul? What lifelong damage would be caused?

His parents realized that because of Derrick's action's the world would know he's gay. They could no longer pretend otherwise.

It's a shame they didn't focus on all the other things the world has learned about their son. Like that he has strength, and fortitude,that he values honesty over hypocrisy.

Under different circumstances I would have thought that Derrick had become the great man that he is because of the influence of his parents.

I guess he just found his greatness within himself.

The Right to Dream

2010-03-19T10:02:00.000-07:00

Until recently I thought one of the few perks I had being gay was my inability to serve in the military. Oh that and not being able to donate blood. (Not really a fan of needles).

I don't believe this anymore. (Well, maybe I'm still a little on the fence about the blood).

I have certainly believed that Don't Ask Don't Tell should be eliminated for the sake of Dan Choi and the thousands of other enlisted LGBTs whose lives and careers have been devastated by the policy. What I have never thought, though, is that this discriminatory law had any impact on me personally.

Until now.

I just made a brief appearance at the Queer Rising sponsored protest in front of the Army Recruitment Center in Times Square. And while I watched young gays try and fail to enter the building, I for some reason began thinking about my childhood.

I was not one of those kids who knew that they were gay at 4. I didn't even know it at 14. I insulated myself from those feelings so securely that if I was in a closet, I was unaware of it. At the first sign of a crack in the walls I built around myself, The plaster was out. The damage, repaired.

Still, all this self protection could not completely shield me from the knowledge that I was somehow different from most people.

At an early age I knew I wanted to be an actor. But I didn't talk about that. Because I felt I was not the same as the men I saw in movies. Not strong enough, or virile, or SOMETHING intangible that I couldn't articulate.

And now I must stop writing and ask my sad, little inner-child a question: "You didn't think there was a place for yourself in the arts?"

Really?

Wow. That's incredible.

Suddenly, I realize I have an obligation to the generations that come behind me. Being in the military wasn't anything I ever wanted for myself. But for some kids, that's the dream. They want to serve and protect this nation. Unfortunately, unlike me, who only thought I did not have a place, this outcast child knows for a fact that he or she is not welcome. Their call to be brave and honorable and true can not be realized. Not today anyway.

This child is forced to let this dream die.

And as a result, how many other dreams will also die?

Here's one for sure: If you can not serve in the military you can not be the President of the United States.

Of course we have had presidents who have not been in the military. We've even had a president who was a draft dodger. But all of our presidents have had the ability to serve. It has been within their rights to serve.

There will never be a commander in chief who is forbidden by law from protecting his country.

And so what are we stealing from our LGBT youth if we don't demand the repeal of DADT? We are taking from them their ability to aspire to greatness. Greatness in all fields.

There is a ceiling pressing down upon my head. I am trying, trying to break through--for myself and for all those children.

Because now I see clearly before my eyes every moment I settled for something safer. Something lesser. Something that would not rock the boat, because I taught myself not to aim too high.

This law has destroyed the careers of 13,500 gay and lesbian soldiers. That is a shameful statistic.

But what is equally shameful is the way in which this ban keeps us all in our place. Like segregated marriage, DADT tells every LGBT American that there is a place for you.

And that place is in the back.

Standing Behind a Barricade as the St. Patrick's Day Parade Passes me by

2010-03-17T10:59:00.000-07:00

I've just returned from the St. Patrick's day parade.

Now I glance at my watch and realize a full five minutes have passed since writing the above sentence. What on earth ever made me think I should become a humorist? And more to the point, a humorist who writes about the inequities of being queer in America.

Now that's funny stuff!!

I guess I'm stymied because I thought I'd see representatives from the KKK or neo-nazis marching up fifth Avenue. Maybe Fred Phelps and family carrying "God Hates Fags" signs. Instead, I saw lots of smiling, happy people. Occasionally one of the participants would give us a thumbs up as they walked by. As we screamed, "Let us join! Let us join!" --as we recalled every moment of our lives when we've been passed up, passed over, ignored-- these fine people seemed not to grasp the problem.

Still they smiled supportively at our enraged, screaming faces.

And suddenly I understood for the first time something that is actually quite basic. For most people there is an enormous disconnect between what they think is right and what they are willing to do to defend what is right.

I would guess that the vast majority of people marching in today's parade believe that members of the LGBT community should be allowed to openly march. Some of these people even beckoned with their hands for us to join them. I don't think they meant to taunt. I doubt they thought their action was in anyway cruel. They wanted, I'm guessing, to be supportive. They wanted to make it clear that they weren't homophobic. Not anti-gay. Not me!

So we changed the chant from, "Let Us Join!" to "Join US! Join US!!"

And still the thumbs went up and the marchers broke into smiles. The cameras came out to take the photos-to record what? That they had seen a real live gay person? So they could show the photo later and say, "Isn't it horrible that they won't let gays march in the parade."

That is what they did instead of doing what we'd asked of them. Instead of doing something that would have had an impact. They did not join us--not a single one of them. They kept on moving. Because, after all, that is what one does in a parade. Isn't it?

And the bagpipes played. Soldiers walked at attention. Little girls danced the jig. All the while I found myself slipping away, fighting to hold back tears.

I am an Irish American. My grandfather was a member of the Ancient Order of Hibernians. These are my people.

Apparently they've forgotten that.

It is difficult for me to put a positive spin on today's events. I personally had no friends or family members marching in the parade. That's something, I guess. It's more than Michael Bloomberg's gay family members can say.

But what of these people, these smiling participants, who so clearly think they support me? They acted like they were my friends, but they would not join me. They would not sacrifice their good time, even though one of their own was being excluded.

I wonder if the day will ever come, when all of those people, all of my Irish brothers and sisters who believe in their hearts that I am worthy to walk with them--I wonder if they will ever say, "This is wrong. This parade is wrong." Will they come to know that encouraging smiles are no longer enough? Will they awake seized with the conviction that they must do more?

Will the day ever come when I find myself standing on Fifth Avenue, protest placard in hand, with no one to wave it at? No one to hear my cries? Because my supporters have decided to be brave?

My hope is that the time will come when these good people remember the actual significance of this day.

And rising up together, as Patrick himself did, they will drive out the snakes that threaten us all.

On the meaning of friendship

2010-03-16T12:53:00.000-07:00

I have a lot of friends on facebook, many of whom I've never met and most likely never will.

So in truth, they are not my friends. Not really. They are people who I have something in common with. We all support LGBT equality. We fight for the end of segregated marriage laws in the US.

Sometimes, though, a bond is formed with one of these strangers. A connection that feels real somehow. You care for this person. And support them. And worry for them. And joke with them. And respect them. And, in short, you feel about them the same way you do your "real" friends. I don't have many such relationships here on facebook. But I do have a few. The one I'm thinking of now is with Jonathan Howard.

A few nights ago I had a terrible dream. I was in the doctor's office. My partner, Marcus, was with me. The doctor whispered dire news about me into Marcus' ear. Even though I couldn't hear the doctor, I knew what he was telling Marcus. He was breaking the news that I had Alzheimer's Disease. I began shaking. And I ran from the exam room through the halls of the hospital shouting, "NO!" as I glanced at sick and dying patients all around me. I awoke with a start, my heart racing, tears streaming down my face.

I guess the good news is the fact that I can recall the dream in such vivid detail probably suggests that I don't have Alzheimer's Disease.

The other good news: this was a rare occurrence-- I'm not prone to nightmares.

Lying in bed, still upset from the dream, Marcus and the cats sound asleep beside me, I started to think about my friend Jonathan Howard. Jonathan has at times had nightmares so violent that he's awakened beating his fists against his headboard.

This kind of violent behavior hasn't always been the case for Jonathan. But, in August of 2008, Jonathan and three of his friends were the victims of a savage gay bashing.

For myself, and I imagine for many members of the LGBT community, being physically attacked, is a buried fear. In my case it probably developed the first time someone shouted faggot at me. As a teenager, before I'd even figured out I was gay, someone threw a bottle at me as they shouted. The bottle didn't make contact, but it struck me all the same.

My experiences, however, don't compare with Jonathan's.

I was not beaten.
I did not lose consciousness.
I was not rushed to the hospital.
My life was never really in danger.

So there I was, lying in my bed post nightmare and thinking about my friend. Wondering what I could do for him.

I can not make that night in August go away as much as I would like to. I can not promise him that he'll never have a bad dream again. (Thank God if he does have one, he has his fiance, Gregory to comfort him).

So what can I do for my friend Jonathan? Maybe I can show him in some grand way that who he is-- a proud gay man-- is an honorable thing. Righteous. Worthy of dignity and respect.

Jonathan has a great love--Gregory Jones. Whether you're straight, gay or bi, there's is a relationship to envy. To aspire to.

I would like to give a gift to Jonathan. I would like to replace his nightmares with sweet dreams.

In the new dream he's with Gregory. It's their wedding day. It's beyond beautiful. It's magical, romantic, exactly as they want it to be. And all over the country, people are sending them well-wishes. They're aware of the nuptials because Jonathan and Gregory have won the Crate and Barrel Ultimate Wedding Contest.

I have a dilemma, much as I love my new friend, I cannot manage this gift alone. I need help. Actually, I need thousands of people to help me.

On the plus side, it's help that will require very little effort on your part.

I'm hopelessly Hollywood. I love a tragedy into triumph story. Can you not picture it? Young gay man beaten, left for dead because of who loves, perseveres and with the help of his community wins the Crate and Barrel Ultimate Wedding Contest!!!

Will you vote--get your friends to vote?

Please will you do this for my friend?

Vote as a way of striking back at all the bastards who attack--who insist on choosing hate instead of love.

PS: as long as you are there voting for Jonathan & Gregory take an extra minute and vote for all the LGBT couples

http://www.ultimateweddingcontest.com/entries/22682

IRISH: Act One--Like Roots, but 100,000 words shorter

2010-03-15T12:28:00.000-07:00

Not having any first cousins on my father’s side, I didn’t really consider myself an Irish American when I was growing up. My dad is one of five children. His three sisters, however, are all nuns and his one brother is a priest. So no kids in the family for me and my brother to play with. As a result, it was always my mother’s family we were with. It was Romanian culture—their customs and foods and particular brand of crazyness that I identified with.

I did love my Irish grandparents, though. My brother and I spent a lot of time with them. They were sweet, and gentle. They were not fiery or hysterical. Not at all Romanian. My sense of morals, my desire to be a good person, my hope for social justice in the world is all a direct result of the example of my grandmother, my Nan. Nan was one of 15 children—actually I’m not exactly sure how many kids there were. A ton. It was more than 12 and less than 17. Ladies and Gentlemen: The Crehan family.

Even as a kid, when I was all Romanian all day, I realized that lurking somewhere out there in the world was a family that I was a part of. Hundreds and hundreds or pure bred Irish people (and plenty of half-breeds like myself).
Still, I didn’t give them a lot of thought.

Then last April I got an Evite from a stranger/cousin named Mary-Alice Barrett inviting me to a reunion of the New York area Crehans—specifically our generation. The first cousin’s once removed. The party was happening on my birthday. I really wasn’t that excited about spending my birthday with a bunch of strangers/cousins. Whatever. Not going.
But magically about four minutes after the Evite arrived my mother called. “There will be a cousin party,” she announced as if she’d just read it on Page Six.

“It’s on my birthday.”

“What a great way to celebrate,” she said, choosing to ignore the petulance in my voice.

My older brother died in 1996. I mention this now because as a result, I am now an only child. And at moments like this one, with my mother’s wishes so clearly stated, I feel the burden of responsibility to do what is expected of me.

I accepted the Evite. I spent my birthday with strangers/cousins.

But then, upon arriving at the event, something remarkable happened. Almost immediately these people didn’t seem like strangers. They seemed like, well, exactly what they are, my family.

Many of them even looked like me. Which makes no sense at all. Because I look like a Romanian. True, I no longer possess the classic Romanian uni-brow. That disappeared long ago when I very wisely accepted waxing as my personal savior. But the dark eyes, the high forehead, that’s pure Romanian—at least I always thought so. My skin is too pale for a Romanian, exactly right for an Irishman. The way we moved and spoke and laughed, there was a connection there, too.

These cousins embraced me.

One female cousin embraced me rather aggressively. At first I was a little taken aback that she was putting the moves on me—yes we were strangers—but we were still technically cousins after all. But then even this awkward moment of having a relative hit on me became a joyful one.

I realized right then, as I was removing her hands from my waist, that I have crazy coming at me from both sides of the family! Here’s the thing: when you look into the face of crazy, what you usually see is talent and vulnerability and heart and pain and sorrow and imagination.

I’m a little bit crazy and I’m proud to say I inherit it from both sides of my family. By the way, my mother has no idea that I write a blog. Let’s keep it that way because I don’t think she’d appreciate her only living child describing himself as nuts (even a little bit nuts).

I left the party that night, ecstatic. Realizing, for the first time—I’m IRISH!!!

I’ve been on a multi-cultural cloud ever since!

Actually, I was on a cloud until yesterday. That’s when I remembered this week is St. Patrick’s Day. That’s a great day to be Irish! I live in New York. And now that I’m finally Irish I would love to march in the parade.

Oh, wait.

I can’t.

Because I’m gay.

Thank God I’m not writing a screenplay. Because this—everything I’ve said thus far—is just the first act of the story. In a screenplay this would be the first 10 of 115 pages.

Fortunately I have a couple more days to figure out how the story ends.

Will I go to the parade anyway, with my friends from Queer Rising?

Will I carry a sign?

Will I get myself arrested?

Will I stay home and feel bad about myself?

Will I decide to turn myself back into a full-blooded Romanian?

Honestly, I have no idea what I’ll do.

Two days to figure it out.

I’ll keep you posted.

Marriage rights activist seeking same for hot, world-changing fun

2010-03-14T08:28:00.000-07:00

I'm having a crisis.

It occurs to me that actually no one reads my blog. It's the only explanation.

My blog has 15 followers (14 if I don't count myself) and I guess for the purposes of establishing a fan base, I should not count myself.

So that's 14. 14 fans. (13 if I don't count my agent) She sort of has to be my fan. I think it's part of the job description.

And now we're 13. Lucky number 13.

I guess I've been thinking it's only these devoted 13 who took the time to register their love of me. But that thousands and thousands of others faithfully read. Enjoyed a laugh, the occasional tear, and, most importantly, heeded my advice.

Apparently not.

Last weekend I wrote about Jonathan Howard and Gregory Jones. I know of at least 13 people--14 if I count myself, and I am--who thought my suggestion was brilliant.

To recap:

I laid out a clear and simple plan in which, by voting for them (Jonathan & Gregory) in the Crate & Barrel Ultimate Wedding Contest, they would become the poster couple for gay marriage. And all around the country folks would be learning lessons of love and tolerance when they read of their victories in their morning papers or, I suppose, in blogs that, unlike mine, have a substantial readership.

Now here is what I know for a fact: More than 8700 people want to see gay marriage become a reality. Yet as of right now, that's the approximate number of votes Jonery have received. (Don't know what Jonery means? Too bad. Read my earlier post).

Here's the other thing I know for a fact--okay, I don't know it to be a fact, but I'm saying it anyway. Many of the people voting--especially the gay men--have alternate screen names that they wouldn't want, say, their mothers or boyfriends to know about. Jonery does not care if you're a little trampy. You can vote with those names, too!

That means maybe it's not 8700 people who have voted maybe it's only 5000 promiscuous people.

WE CAN DO BETTER!

This is not hard.

I'm the guy who created The Marrying Kind. I don't even approve of marriage at this moment in history. I think we should all be waiting (gay & straight) until we have equal federal marriage rights. But I can put aside my differences and recognize that the publicity that will come from this victory will be a huge step forward for gay rights.

I don't think I'm wrong about this. But if I am, how much time has this action really cost you? Two minutes. A few minutes more if you're... well you know, exceedingly friendly.

Here's an idea: Log onto one of those "other" names and make a new friend. Invite them over and before you get acquainted, log onto the Crate & Barrel Ultimate Wedding Contest and make your new friend vote. It's essential that you get them to vote before you get distracted by other things and forget the real reason you invited a total stranger into your house.

For those of you without a screen name you wouldn't want your mother to see, this would be a good time to call your mother. Get mom to vote. And all the rest of the clan.

So I should go now because I'm going to post, I mean...

I'm going to call my mother.

http://www.ultimateweddingcontest.com/entries/22682

Oklahoma, NOT OK!

2010-03-11T10:53:00.000-08:00

I am a college graduate. And I am a writer. I begin by mentioning these facts as a way of proving that I generally have a basic understanding of the English language. When I read something I can usually ascertain the meaning of the words.

Yet I have just read a brief story on Advocate.com (three times, in fact) and I can't figure it out. This is in no way a reflection on the story's reporter--Julie Bolcer. Each of her sentences clearly has a subject and a predicate. If I still remembered how, I'm sure I could diagram each and every one of them. She's writing in paragraphs. It's all good.

Except that it's not.

Let's start with the headline: Okla. Senate Opts Out of Hate Crime Act

You can do that?

You would want to do that?

Below is Julie's first sentence:

"Oklahoma state senator Steve Russell pushed an amendment Wednesday night that makes it possible for the state to circumvent the portion of the Matthew Shepard and James Byrd, Jr. Hate Crimes Protection Act that concerns LGBT protections."

Now that I've read it a fourth time, it's a little clearer: It's not the whole Hate Crimes Act he's trying to kill. It's just the part that deals with LGBT protections.

Here is the Rest of Julie Bolcer's piece:

According to NewsOK, a state law enforcement agency would not be required to share investigative files with federal agencies under the proposed changes to the Oklahoma hate-crimes bill. The bill is now headed to the house for consideration after passing the senate 39-6.

“Under the new provisions of Senate Bill 1965, reports that were collected during investigations of possible hate crime that did not end in a conviction would be destroyed or kept by the Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation,” reported NewsOK.

“Russell said the bill is meant to prevent the federal law enforcement officials from taking over a case and applying different standards when local law enforcement has already investigated a case.”

The senator also said his bill is meant to protect speech of all kinds, according to NewsOK.

I do not make a habit of posting entire articles into my blog. But I'm hoping one of my readers can explain to me what I clearly don't understand.

Do you think one day this Senator woke up and thought: Oklahoma would be a much better place to live if those homosexuals felt less safe? Or, perhaps he thought, I want to be remembered as the man who did nothing when my neighbors were being harmed?

It's all deeply distressing. But there is something about the senator's motivations that I really don't understand.

I remember an episode of "LA Law" I watched a hundred years ago, so the details are now fuzzy. Here is the gist: One of the male lawyers is out on the town with his brother or an old friend, and they're attacked, called fag. At first the lawyer doesn't want to report the incident because he's straight and feels humiliated for being perceived to be gay. But, because it's TV, he works through these feelings and presses charges against his attackers.

The point is you don't actually have to be a member of the LGBT community to be the victim of an LGBT hate crime. Your attacker just has to THINK you are gay.

So, this brings me back to the Senator.

The advocate.com has included a head shot of him. He's pretty cute in conservative kind of way.

I would totally hit on him. I mean, if I was single and if I didn't know he hated gay people.

But back to his cute factor. He has very delicate features, well groomed. He's thin.

He could definitely pass.

I'm not questioning his sexuality. I assume he's 100% straight. But to the eyes of a hater? His wry smile, his impeccably manicured brows, the crispness of his collar, these mark the senator. They spell trouble.

And if this law passes (or maybe it did, I didn't really understand the article) Senator Russell, along with every real member of the LGBT community is about to find himself a whole lot less safe than he was before.

I do hope the Senator will reconsider his actions. But if he does not, for his own safety, he should really think about packing on thirty or forty pounds fast. Oh, and throw away that tweezer.

What if we Were a Mouse Click Away From Equality?

2010-03-08T09:27:00.000-08:00

For awhile now I've been thinking the LGBT marriage equality movement needs a poster couple.

Clearly, as the author of "The Marrying Kind," an obvious choice would be me (and my partner, of course). But to be honest, while there are several organizations for which I think I'd make an excellent poster child, poster couple not so sure about.

Let me just say it: I don't have great hair. I do have sensational teeth. But on the other hand, my jaw line... a little weak. I couldn't possibly spend every minute of my day avoiding being photographed in profile--that would be exhausting.

So that leaves me with the difficult task of anointing another couple.

Before you say Ellen & Portia or that "Star Trek" guy, let me stop you. I'm thinking, let's go another way. Let's eschew celebrity, shall we?

I've found another couple and they're perfect for our cause.

They're named Gregory Jones and Jonathan Howard. These boys are so cute: great hair, strong jaws. The teeth, probably not as good as mine. But two out of three. Oh and they are smart and funny and madly in love with each other.

But here is why we all really need them: They have entered the Crate and Barrel Ultimate Wedding Contest and they have a good shot of winning. They are in second place behind a straight couple.

Now, as all my friends know, I love the straights. Really. And I know there is no way of saying "I love straight people" without sounding like you don't.

I really do.

But, I think we can all agree that straight people don't really need more societal support with regard to the recognition of their relationships.

The LGBTs on the other hand...

See this is why they must win:

Can you imagine the press, the outrage, the rejoicing (I'm guessing that outrage and rejoicing will be coming from two different sets of people).

Picture this for a minute: It's three weeks from now. All over the country folks are picking up their local papers and reading stories about the two gay guys who won the Ultimate Wedding Contest. All over America people will be talking about gay marriage.

Not just Gregory and Jonathan's.

But mine, too.

Yours too, if you're queer. (Though I know many of you reading this are straight. Because lots of straight people are supportive. And lots of straight folks read my blog, because they know I love the straights).

But I've digressed.

How do you and I make this dream-- the one where everyone in America is talking about equality--a reality?

It's so simple!!!!!!!

Easy.

No effort.

You go to the link I'm posting below and you vote.

Then you invite your friends to do the same.

Honestly, Can we not get a few hundred thousand people to do this? To assure that Jonathan and Gregory (and honestly, all of us) win!

This is publicity for our cause we don't have to pay for.

FREE.

I'm so sick of segregated marriage. It's about time Crate and Barrel joined the fight!

And the best part? It's so much fun being an activist when it only takes two minutes to accomplish your goal.

VOTE!!!

Here's what I did because I'm a creative type. I invited 1138 of my friends to vote for Jonathan & Gregory. That's one friend for every right I am currently denied by the federal government.

And each friend who clicks the link gets me closer to my goal. Gets you closer. Gets all of us closer to the kind of world we want to live in.

A world where segregated marriage is no longer acceptable.

A world where marriage equality exists.

As far as I can see, the only real question remaining is do we call them Gregathan or Jonory?

I think Jonory. But on this point I'm willing to be flexible.

http://www.ultimateweddingcontest.com/entries/22682

Please Come!

2010-03-04T12:04:00.000-08:00

Constantly I find myself fighting the urge to not join in or participate in something--actually in everything.

Big parties, rather not go. The movie everyone is talking about, I probably won't be seeing.

I recognize that my reclusiveness is not always personally beneficial. And so it is with reticence that I force myself out into the world. Even though it's so nice at home curled up with a good book.

Ugh. I just received an invitation.

I don't even want to open it. I was just going to make myself a little green tea and have some quiet time, but now I have to find out who this invitation is from.

Excuse me while I take a moment to sigh heavily.

The invitation is from the Empowering Spirits Foundation--I like them. Not that I want to go to their party, but I do like them.

So their thing is next month. Oh, God. They already have like 400 people attending.

Ugh. Yikes!

Excuse me while I take another moment to sigh heavily. This time the sigh is panic-laced. (I don't do well in crowds).

Oh wait!

On closer inspection I see that Empowering Spirits Foundation isn't inviting me to their place. They are asking me to fill out the census in the comfort of my own home.

Which I guess means they will not be providing any type of refreshments. That's not the way I would throw a party. Best not to quibble since this means I don't have to leave my house.

I wasn't certain that I was even going to fill out the census form because I thought homosexuals didn't count. But according to Empowering Spirits, who I trust even if they don't really know how to throw a party, it's vital that the LGBT community fill out the forms.

Why, you ask?

Because, according to Jamie Grant, the director of the Policy Institute at The National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, “Without data, you have no community portrait, and without a portrait, you have no needs, you have no identity, you have no funding; the census has always had a civil rights component to it.”

Oh, and there are only 10 questions. So we can fill it out fast and then get to the party.

Oh, right. Empowering Spirits Foundation is not throwing an actual party, it's more of a virtual thing. I know I don't like going out, but this is such a big deal. And it's only once every ten years. So...

You know what? I bet I can find their address. (how hard could it be? I mean, how many Empowering Spirit Foundations could there be?)

I make crazy good stuffed mushrooms. I'm thinking we grab are forms, we head over to the foundation. Somebody could make a crudites--that's always nice. I know they're tacky but I love a pig-n-blanket. (And I don't think I'm alone). Vino. Anybody?

We take two--three minutes tops-- to fill out the form. Then it's party time.

Because--well--we exist.

Therefore, we deserve to be counted. Don't you think?

So. Everybody. In?

See you next month.

Rock With Me Baby!

2010-02-26T13:58:00.000-08:00

Fortunately, I'm not really prone to bad dreams. But over the course of the thirteen years I've been with my partner, Marcus, there is a scary nightmare I've had more than once.

I'm all alone in the house. All of the windows and doors are wide open. It's raining and the water pours in, streaming across the floors. I'm not actually paralyzed. But I can't move. I'm frightened but also very angry. I don't know what to do. At my side are two small suitcases, there getting damaged by the rain.

And then as sometimes happens in a dream, I understand what's going on. I realize I can't keep the house without Marcus. I can't afford the house alone. Sometimes, in the dream, I've lost the house because I can't pay the inheritance tax. Other times I've been bankrupted by lawyer's fees because his parents are suing me to gain possession of the house (a thing they would never actually do. But, it's a nightmare). Sometimes, I just don't have enough money because I don't have access to Marcus' social security. Just that extra bit would be enough of a safety net.

But I don't have that. I don't have his social security because in the eyes of the law i am a stranger to him.

Finally I just leave the house, because I don't know what else to do.

This is the only dream that has caused me to awaken, gasping and in a sweat, since I was a child.

I haven't had the dream in a couple of years, but the terrifying memory of it came rushing back to me when my friend Tanner Efinger invited me to be a part of a rally and "rock-in" called rock for equality to raise awareness and funds to fight the inequities of social security benefits for LGBT Americans. Please visit www.rockforequality.org to learn more.

I'm involved because I want GLBT seniors afforded the same rights as straight seniors.

Okay, that's not the whole reason. It's not even the main reason.

Mostly I'm involved for myself. And for Marcus. I just want what's ours.

I think about Don't Ask Don't Tell and all of the years it has managed to exist, in spite of how clearly wrong it is. Time truly does fly.

There always seems to be a reason to treat people badly. Always a reason why the timing is wrong.

Change? Maybe not.

Progress? Maybe next year.

I'm in my forties. There is a very real chance that in twenty years--when I'm really thinking about social security benefits--that I still might not have equality.

I'm not predicting that. I will not be accepting that.

So to make sure that's not my fate. I'm talking now. I'm making a fuss.

I'm rocking.

Will you rock with me?

Now class, Today's word is:

2010-02-24T10:34:00.000-08:00

Even though it is against the law for my partner and me to get married, we sometimes act like an old married couple anyway. You know, just to flaunt the law. One of the radical, old married things we enjoy doing is learning a new word every day. (Though in reality it ends up being two or three times a week).

Certain words, in spite of having learned them before, never seem to stick in my brain. I could, for example, look up Nonplussed every day of the week and still have doubts as to its meaning. Nonplussed is something which causes you to be at a loss as to what to say. (I know that because I just looked it up--again).

So even though my partner is at work--and I'm doing whatever it is that I do--I thought how about a word of the day!

Today's word is Carpetbagger!

According to Merriam-Webster a carpetbagger is an OUTSIDER; especially a nonresident or new resident who seeks private gain from an area often by meddling in its business or politics.

Huh. Good to know. Let's see if we can use it in a sentence, shall we?

"By attempting to bulldoze his way into New York State politics, Harold Ford, Jr is acting very much like a carpetbagger.

Now I'm not going to blame Harold Ford, Jr for wanting to move from Tennessee to New York. I mean that's kind of a no brainer. Right? I can forgive that.

But here are some fun facts I'm not so willing to forgive:

He twice voted for Bush's Anti-Gay federal marriage amendment.

He voted against The Employment Non-Discrimination Act

Apparently he also voted against gay adoptions in Washington DC.

And my personal favorite, he voted against Hate Crimes prevention, because really who cares if you're only killing minorities.

Wow.

I don't think I'm going to vote for him because his past record is. Well... Umn...

His past voting record has left me completely nonplussed.

Perhaps by the time I arrive this evening at the LGBT center on 13th street at 6:00, I will have thought of something to say. And will therefore no longer be nonplussed.

That does not, however, mean that I'll be plussed.

Criminals and the Women Who Love Them

2010-02-17T14:46:00.001-08:00

I am the son of a retired police officer. So it may come as no surprise that I was raised to respect authority. And that generally I do not make a habit of associating with known felons.

But something crazy is going on with me. I can't help myself! I desperately want to consort with criminals. With four criminals in particular.

Right now I find myself bereft because on Friday morning I will be on a plane headed to Florida to visit my parents instead of sitting in a court room supporting--well, let's just say it-- four known felons. I know they did it. I saw them commit their crimes with my very own eyes!

The four felons in question are Alan Bounville, Jake Goodman, Justin Elzie and Gabriel Yuri Bollag. Together they are known as the Queer Rising 4. Perhaps you've heard of them? I think they're dreamy.

BUT THEY'RE CRIMINALS!

I want to be their moll. (there I said it.)

I'm remembering a scene from my childhood. I was watching Donahue. Phil had as his guests woman who loved prisoners. They did anything they could for these men. Sacrificed everything for them. And got nothing in return.

Even at age six, I knew these ladies had a problem.

But now I find myself thinking: "Maybe I should cancel my nonrefundable plane ticket and stay in town to be with my boys, Alan, Jake, Justin and Gabriel. Have I mentioned that they're dreamy?

"Dad," I'll say, when I call the former police officer, "Here's the thing. I'm not coming because there are these guys. True they're lawbreakers, I can't deny that. But they are so dreamy. I never knew how hot activists could be. I got it bad, dad."

Just like the woman on Donahue, I will write my boys long letters to keep their spirits up. I will describe the details of my far less exciting days, while I dream about being reunited with QR4.

I think I'm becoming one of those crazy Donahue women (except I'm still a man, of course). Oh, and I guess another difference is I think the men that they loved were serial killers. Where as the men that I love are fighting for equality and the end of segregated marriage laws.

But aside from those minor details, I'm just like those women.

Alan, Jake, Justin and Gabriel--they're like a boy band. Incidentally, boy bands are often made up of known felons. Oh my God!!! I can't wait for their first single. You just know that HRC and Courage Campaign and Freedom to Marry are going to be fighting to have QR4 get chained up for them and perform.

Oh my sweet perpetrators. I am the Bonnie to your Clyde (x4)

How can I not be there for you on Friday? What if I, just this once, sent many others in my place?

What if on Friday, Feb 19th at 9:30AM hundreds of my friends arrived at 100 Centre Street Part A 4th floor NY NY 10013

Of course these hundreds of friends are not a substitute for me your loyal, QR4 fan.

Fan?

No. Fan seems too insignificant a word to describe the way I feel about you activists. Soul mates! That's better. True there is the small detail that we don't know each other. But when I saw you in your chains. Well.... enough about me.

A brief reminder to my hundreds of friends who will be in attendance at 9:30 Friday morning. The boys? The boys are mine. Don't think because I'm not there that Alan, Jake, Justin or Gabriel are going to settle for you.

You can be a fan. But you aren't a soul mate.

So step back.

It all Comes Down to Love!

2010-02-14T09:59:00.000-08:00

This year, Marcus said it first.

He gave Theo a gentle nudge to pry her from his pillow. She purred, hoping against odds that he might choose her over me. When Marcus didn't, she hopped off the bed and Marcus nuzzled up beside me.

"Happy Valentine's day, Bug," he whispered.

"Happy Valentine's day, Bug." I grinned and gave him a kiss.

Theo gave us about three minutes of privacy before she jumped back up on the bed. I don't think she knows she's a cat. At some point, she decided that she was Marcus' wife. Fortunately, I have not been cast as the other woman. I'm more like Mom. When she's sick or wants food, she's all over me. But when she needs love, It's Marcus' arms she leaps into. It's his nose she licks.

"Happy Valentine's day, darling," Marcus told Theo. She pressed into his arms, and he shrugged. Sorry bug, I have to please the Mrs, his raised shoulders seemed to be saying to me.

Then he giggled sweetly. And suddenly I remembered that I love Marcus.

I should clarify that I am usually aware that I love him. But in fact, the awareness of love is not at the forefront of memory twenty-four hours a day. Not for me. Not for anyone, I suppose. Between life and stress and work, there are many other things to think about.

But when these moments happen--this morning's giggle for example; or a thoughtful e-mail he's sent for no reason, a particuarlar glance in my direction, or even just hearing him call me Bug--I remember that I love him.

I suppose this isn't revelatory, what I'm writing here. I imagine this is much the way it goes for all couples who've been together beyond the early flush of romance and discover that they have the desire to build a life together. That living with the other person is fun and difficult and extraordinary and the only way of being that makes any real sense.

On Valentine's day, we all celebrate that very special kind of love. Of course, if one hopes to have more than just one Valentine's day with the same person (I've had 12 with Marcus) on some level the celebrating must happen every day of the year.

This is true for all couples.

And maybe that's why I care about Valentine's day. Because it's a day for all couples. It's a day we recognize how the same all of us who are in relationships are--in spite of superficial differences like age and race and gender and orientation.

One day a year we collectively agree that loving another person is a great gift. It's an awesome responsibility. It is a challenge. It is a hope.

All people are allowed to celebrate Valentine's day. There is no single group that's unwelcome. Because on this one day a year we all seem to understand that it all comes down to love.

And if you have it--if you have been blessed with this sacred gift-- you are welcomed to be a part of the celebration.

Today we're all equal in our love.

Tomorrow?

Well that's another story.

I Am Not Now, Nor Have I Ever Been

2010-02-12T12:06:00.000-08:00

It was cold this morning and I didn't want to leave the house. Marcus and the kids (cats) were snugged up in bed. I dragged myself from under the comforter and made my way slowly to the kitchen. Before I put coffee on, I checked e-mail on my phone. Maybe it was cancelled.

It wasn't.

Sigh.

There was no escaping. I was going to have to go downtown to the Queer Rising Marriage Equality Rally. I live in Harlem. Worth Street is nearly an hour away. That's far!

And let's not forget it was cold outside. Oh, and did I mention I had to be there by 8:00?

Maybe I wouldn't go after all.

I hate being an activist.

I'm not very good at it.

On second thought, I'm not an activist.

I went anyway.

There were a lot of nice people there. People who are committed to equality are often nice. (Not always, of course. But often.)

I had not come prepared with a sign. (Because, as I previously stated, I hate being an activist and I'm not an activist.) But one of the real activists had made several signs--as real activists are want to do--so she gave me one to hold. It said Queer Rising in big letters and had many rainbow colors. Not the sign I would have made but I hadn't made a sign. And as the say beggers (you know the rest.)

Anyway, not the sign I would have made but, I liked having the sign to hold because it gave me something to do with my hands. (and it made me look like an activist, which I'm not.)

I stood at a safe distance from the actual activists, but did participate in the chanting and general shouting for equality.

Then a gay man and a lesbian came and talked to us. They told us they had just received a marriage license. Even though, they don't love each other, or even know each other very well. They had previously tried to get licenses with the people they actually love. But since the great loves of their lives were of the same gender, they were denied.

Not a surprise. But really a drag. Right?

Suddenly I began chanting a little louder!

Then I thought maybe we would go for snacks. But we weren't done yet.

More actual activists emerged from the building and chained themselves together, effectively barring entrance into the building.

Lot's more pro-marriage-rights slogans were chanted!

Also police came. (Not being an activist, that frightened me.)

I continued to carry my Queer Rising sign and considered blocking my face with it in case there were camaras, like the Gotti family does when they are exiting a court house.

But the police were not interested in me. Because I was across the street where we were asked to stand. (I was taught by nuns and therefore obey authority.) And besides, not to belabor the point, but I'm not really an activist.

So anyway the police clipped the big heavy chains and arrested the (real) activists and escorted them to the Paddy Wagon.

And just for a minute I wished I was an activist. I wished I cared enough about civil rights to go to prison for what is right. I wished I was fighting more. Shouting louder.

I wish I was braver.

And then I remembered something: At least, I showed up.

I did chant.

I did hold a sign.

And maybe that's not enough. But it's something.

It's a start.

And maybe next time I'll chain myself to the door too. (Totally kidding, Mom.)

But I think I will keep showing up. I will keep chanting. I will make noise, albeit respectful, somewhat subdued noise. I can do these things...

(Even though I'm not an activist.)

And maybe someday...

Who knows?

I'm Not Getting Married

2010-01-20T11:12:00.000-08:00

I joined the NMB and I'm not getting married!

I felt pretty excited when I took the pledge. Really excited actually.

Then I realized it wasn't exactly that I was boycotting marriage. It was more like marriage was boycotting me. I'm gay so it's not a huge hardship for me to say I won't get married until everyone can.

My partner and I have been together over twelve years and if federal laws allowed we would be married. That straight people are joining the NMB and choosing not to marry because they want to stand in solidarity with me is overwhelmingly heartening. Because it is hard not to be married when you want to be.

It means--even for straight couples living together unwed--that you are thought of as less than by society. Okay maybe not if you are Brad and Angelina or Susan Sarrandon and Tim Robbins. But for the rest of us: Living together is not the same as married.

If you are not married you can't avail yourself to your partners health insurance. In the first 10 years I was with my partner, before his company offered domestic partner benefits, we spent an extra one hundred thousand dollars on health insurance. That's not a typo I really mean ten thousand a year times ten years.

That's just one example. Of course there are nearly 1400 federal rights that come with marriage.

What's happening when we decide to boycott this sacred institution is that we are saying marriage as it's currently defined is wrong, and therefore I won't be a part of it. As more and more people begin to think this way and start talking about marriage in terms of segregation and civil rights, hearts and minds will change.

When marriage as it's currently defined becomes unacceptable to US citizens, lawmakers will be forced to act.

The straight members of this organization are doing a great service to the GLBT community. They are literally enduring economic and societal hardship to support the cause of justice. I, for one, will always be grateful. And I promise, if a law is ever passed that gives a right to gays but excludes straights, I will remember this moment and I will boycott. And I will speak up loudly!

Thank you

Ken O'Neill

The Marrying Kind

High School Anti-Gay "Event" Being Investigated

2010-01-14T13:30:00.000-08:00

High School Anti-Gay "Event" Being Investigated

I find this so troubling. But I also wonder how can you not expect this kind of behavior when you put an entire group of peoples rights up for public debate?

It's called Catholic CHARITIES

2009-12-15T12:06:00.000-08:00

Most people know, I'm waiting for the day that the LGBT community has equal FEDERAL marriage rights. This does not mean that I'm not moved and excited with each state victory and deeply saddened by our losses. I'm a New Yorker.

Today a little good news: DC one step closer to marriage equality.

Alone in my studio, I brewed up a pot of organic Sencha (I know how to party) and I did a little happy dance for the good citizen's of the Nation's Capital.

Just as I poured my second cup, I received an e-mail from HRC. I assumed they wanted to get in on the happy dance, too.

Actually, they had grimmer news. They were asking me to send a letter to Archbishop Wuerl who, through the Catholic Charities organization, provides, among other things, medical services to some of the neediest in the DC area. (What a noble and honorable thing to do. Right?) Well it is, except when you threaten to pull the plug on the program because you don't want to have to serve gay married people, which is what the Archbishop is threatening to do.

I just need to say it's a good thing there are so many polyphenols in green tea. Because at this moment I'm sure my body is being overwhelmed by free radicals. I read the e-mail twice from HRC. There must be a mistake.

I was raised a Catholic. And I went to Catholic schools--I paid attention in class. But I have no memory of the day I was taught the lesson to screw the sick and disenfranchised. I guess I was absent that day.

As a gay man, I have plenty of problems with the Catholic church, one of those problems has never been their commitment to caring for the needy.

Those called to religious life are often filled with a loving spirit and a humble desire to serve God and care for the less fortunate. I pray to God ( and to St. Theresa too, who I'm super tight with) and I ask that They give Archbishop Wuerl the desire to reflect on his recent actions and the strength to reconsider his harmful threats.

And I hope that while he is in prayer and reflection, he takes the time to ask himself the simple question: What would Jesus do?

My guess is they would be of differing opinion.

The Boycott That Dare Not Speak its Name

2009-11-16T12:07:00.000-08:00

I'm guessing it was sometime in late September of 2008. I was sitting at my desk working on my second book. My first, The Marrying Kind, was at the time still unsold. I wasn't in great spirits because I kept getting rejections from editors who said things like: great, funny, touching, I don't think I can sell it. Gay fiction doesn't sell.

While I will probably never write anything quite as "gay" as The Marrying Kind again, my second manuscript also features some gay characters. And apparently, as I was told, readers are not interested in gays.

So I'm writing, or struggling, and it's the fall of 2008, and the phone rings. And I think, let the machine get it, you're writing. Then I look at my blank computer screen.

I answer the phone.

It provides a welcome distraction.

There is a pause after I say, "hello". So I know it's a solicitation. But I'm not writing anyway, so I hang on.

It's a call from the DNC. They want my money for Obama. Well for Obama, of course. I pull out my credit card. I can't give a lot. I am an as yet unpublished author (of a book featuring gay people) and a massage therapist.

But for Obama I can spare $50.00. I mean, it's OBAMA!

I'm about to give my info when a little voice in my head says "Barack Obama does not support marriage equality, why are you giving him money?"

I looked at the credit card in my shaking hand. "You know what," I hear an angry quiver enter my voice. "On second thought, forget it!"

"Pardon?" The confused DNC volunteer asks. "I just need your card number, sir."

"No. Not a dime for Obama."

I sense the campaign worker might hang up on me. And really, can I blame him? But I don't want him to hang up. I want him to know why he can't have my fifty bucks.

"I am a gay man," I say. And now I can see Sally Field as Norma Rae thrust the STRIKE sign above her head. "I will not," I thunder on, "Give one dime, not a penny, to a candidate who does not believe I deserve the same rights that he enjoys. RIGHTS, I might add, that his own parents would have been denied in some states when they were wed."

Now I was on a role, "Please tell Mr. Obama," I say this like the future president and the poor, put upon volunteer on the phone are best buds. "Tell him, when he decides to support my civil rights, I will reward him with contributions to future campaigns."

I hung up. Had a moment of triumph. And then pictured Sarah Palin and John McCain in the white house.

"Oh my God! What have I done."

I didn't call the DNC back. Nor did I tell anyone of my boycott--I was totally on the downlow.

I did vote for Obama.

When he won, I was very glad he had done so. And I was more glad that he'd won without any of my money.

Still, I said nothing about my boycott.

Now I hear we're all hanging on to our dollars until Obama and the DNC make equality more of a priority. (About time!) I read that leading activists including Pam Spaulding, Andy Towle, Michelangelo Signorile, Dan Savage and David Mixner are requesting that folks put a freeze on their donations until Obama actually lives up to his self-proclaimed title of "fierce advocate" for GLBT issues.

So I guess I can say it now: I'm in, everybody. I'm in.

By Example

2009-11-13T11:08:00.000-08:00

What can I do?

It's a thought I often have just seconds before I lay down on my couch in despair. Not productive, but there you have it.

I know I can be doing more to create change. To move our nation in the direction of equality.

Last week I got invited via Facebook to join a group created by Sean Chapin called: Equality Civil Rights Movement. Sean's goal get 50% of the LGBT community to devote 5% of their time to advancing the movement.

5% of my time? I can do that. (I think)

Many of you know I've written a very-pro equality novel called The Marrying Kind, which will be released sometime in June by Alyson books. It was a lot of work and I'm very proud of it. BUT I have been a bit resting on my laurels of late. The book is not coming out until June. I can do plenty of other things to advance this cause before then.

Now comes the urge to lie down. What can I do? Okay it's passed. Not lying down!

Here's one idea:

At The Marrying Kind group we're organizing a Thanksgiving event. Across the country we are asking folks to raise the topic of equality at the dinner table. Tell your family how you feel-- that civil rights for the LGBT community is something that matters to you.

If you already know your whole family supports gay rights, it's an easy conversation. If you know they don't, or you aren't sure, it's hard. I know that. But it's important. I think we have to start with our families.

That's just one idea. But it demonstrates that committing to the cause does not have to mean anything particularly extraordinary beyond raising your voice. No money. No special props.

Can't we do this for Sean? Can't we do this for ourselves?

Sean Chapin is my Facebook "friend". I don't actually know him. Though I admire him immensely.

He's asking us to commit 5% of our time.

My guess is he's committing 95% of his.

Please become a fan of Equality Civil Rights Movement

History Repeating

2009-11-05T08:22:00.000-08:00

Faggot!

I'm thirteen and shards of glass spray up toward my face. The bottle, sailing out of the passing car window, lands at my feet, shattering, making me jump back in terror, making me scream, making me seem, to the men in the car, just like a

Faggot!

They shout one more time before speeding off.

I'm thirty-eight and shards of glass spray up toward my face. The bottle soaring from the apartment window, lands a foot away from me, in my own Backyard.

Faggot!

This time, I do not jump. I do not scream, I stifle it. I do not act like a

Faggot!

They scream one last time as I retreat back into my Harlem home. I do not return to my garden.

These two memories always rush forward when I become angry. When I'm overcome with a sense of injustice.

Last November, for weeks after the passing of Prop8, I was thirteen again, surrounded by broken glass. I was thirty-eight, too, and afraid to be in my own yard.

And now it's another November and I wonder if any of the good citizens of Maine were in that car or in that high rise. Are they the ones? Did they call me

Faggot!

Did these good citizens of Maine throw bottles at me?

If they did--they missed.

Still here. Still in one piece. I was not cut.

I was scared, true.

But I was not stopped.

I will not be stopped.

The Cost of being Gay

2009-10-07T09:27:00.000-07:00

The New York Times reports on the increased amount of money a same-sex couple will spend as compared to their straight counterparts. The amount can be as high as $400,000 over the course of their relationship.

Having spent an extra $100,000 on health insurance during the first ten years of my relationship, this figure doesn't surprise me. It does sadden me though.

After California stripped marriage rights away from its citizens, Melissa Etheridge vowed to stop paying taxes. At the time I thought she was being a little extreme.

I don't anymore.

I'm not prepared to say that I'm going to stop paying mine. In fact I know I'm not going to stop paying my taxes. Because I'm not really a rule breaker. And it's scary. And I don't want to go to jail. Those are the reasons I'll keep paying every dime of my taxes.

I will not keep paying them, however, Because I think it's right. I do not receive the same benefits as straight married Americans. I am not the same; I am less. Didn't we all learn something in history class about no taxation without representation?

So. You go Melissa!

And if any other queer Americans are joining her, I applaud their courage.

I'm not quite ready to join this new tea party.

I wish I was.

The 8 Continues

2009-05-26T12:13:00.000-07:00

It's not a surprise, this continuation of 8. But it is deeply upsetting.

It is not a surprise, this continuation of 8. It is, however, unjust.

No surprise, this continuation of 8. What it is, clearly, is another example of man's inhumanity.

I am not stunned. I am not shocked by what has happened today.

I expected nothing else.

What I am now, in the wake of this discovery, is angry. Saddened.

What I am not is complacent. What I am not is resigned.

I will not be cowed. Silenced. Deterred.

I will speak. I will set example. I will agitate. I will remind. I will write. I will have resolve.

I will not go away.

I will prevail.

I will rejoice.

I will embody love.

And I will see the end of 8.

Family Friendly

2009-04-13T11:37:00.000-07:00

The first word I uttered this morning was: REALLY?

This was in response to an e-mail I received telling me that Amazon had stripped hundreds of gay themed books of their rankings. Rankings help buyers find books. The higher a books ranking the more likely shoppers will find the title. The books in question, including Oranges are not the only Fruit, In the Line of Beauty & Brokeback Mountain were removed in an effort to make their list more family friendly. These and many other gay titles were deemed adult.

Correct me if I am wrong aren't all books that are not children's or YA, adult? Why does the presence of of a gay character make them too adult?

As a writer whose first novel, The Marrying Kind, is coming out next year and features several gay and lesbian characters, I find this deeply troubling. As a reader, and a very frequent Amazon customer, I am equally troubled.

I do not want Amazon deciding what I can read. I am quite capable of making those decisions myself.

Fortunately, even though large corporations like Amazon have destroyed much of the retail book industry, there are still a few other choices when it comes to buying books.

I'll be shopping elsewhere. How about you?

Don't Forget to Write!

2009-03-26T09:18:00.000-07:00

Before I even had my coffee this morning, I read in the Times that Governor Douglas of Vermont had announced his plan to veto a marriage rights bill if it passed in his state. This is a bill with overwhelming support. And this is VERMONT!

Sean Chapin has started a letter writing movement through a group on facebook. And he wants us to write and let the Governor know how his action makes us feel.

Here's my letter:

Dear Governor Douglas,

I'm writing in hopes that I can persuade you to reconsider your decision to veto marriage equality in Vermont.

I ask you to reflect upon what it was that made you seek out a political life. My guess is that among your reasons for choosing this career was not a desire to further discrimination-- to enshrine a separate but equal policy into your state's constitution.

That is exactly what your veto will do.

Sir, you find yourself in an extremely fortunate position. For history will certainly remember you--few people ever find themselves in that position.

The question to ask yourself is how would you like to be remembered? Will you be recalled as a great man who fought for basic, equal rights for every citizen? Or rather will time show you to be a man who chose to align himself with bigotry and discrimination. A man who chose to continue marriage segregation when he so easily could have put a stop to it.

Ken O'Neill

www.themarryingkind.org

Below is Douglas's web address:

http://governor.vermont.gov/contact.html

Go, Chuck!!

2009-03-23T09:50:00.000-07:00

I have been working on a new book and away from my blog. But I could not let this moment pass without sharing that Sen. Chuck Schumer of my home state, New York has called for the repeal of DOMA and fully supports marriage equality!

According to Chuck: It's time. Equality is something that has always been a hallmark of America and no group should be deprived of it. New York, which has always been at the forefront on issues of equality, is appropriately poised to take the lead on this issue."

I couldn't agree more.

I HEART REV. SHEPHERD

2009-01-09T08:44:00.000-08:00

I guess all of us want to feel that others understand us and support us. That what we believe in is valued and respected by others. I've written before about how difficult it was for me when I first began boycotting weddings because of their inherent segregation. So few people understood or respected my stance. In fact, most people thought I was down right selfish -- that my anger was misdirected at the poor couples who just wanted to be free to celebrate their special days.

I don't get many comments like that anymore.

Today I was forwarded an inspiring article from the Ashland Daily Tidings. Reading it I realize that the call to acknowledge marriage segregation is taking hold all over the country.

At the First Congregational United Church of Christ the clergy members have decided that they will no longer sign marriage licenses until they can also sign them for gay & lesbian couples as well. (Let's all pause while we stand up and cheer).

The boycott of signing marriage licenses was the idea of the Rev. Pam Shepherd. (A person I don't know but I love!)

When I started The Marrying Kind group in late August, I would not have believed that there would be members of the clergy, a mere five months later, taking this kind of bold step.

When Harvey Milk said, "You gotta give'em hope," he was referring to actions like those of the Rev. Shepherd. Now because of her, and her fellow clergy members, gays and lesbians will get the message that there is a place for them in a religious community, if they want it. They will feel that they are welcome. That they are worthy. That the promise of equality is theirs, too.

I'm sure there must be other churches in the US that have taken this noble stance for justice and equality. If you know of one, please share the information with me.

Because we all could use a lot more hope.

Some of my best friends are straight

2009-01-06T13:34:00.000-08:00

A women in LA took the time to e-mail me with a question about the Marrying Kind and whether or not I think what we're up to is anti-straight and reverse racism. Here is what I said in response:

Thanks for taking the time to write. Forgive my slow response, I've been away.

My big goal with starting The Marrying Kind has been to get people to acknowledge the inherent segregation which is a part of US federal marriage. (Also marriage in many other parts of the word) and to respond accordingly. I promise you I am not anti-straight. If I told you that I would not enter a country club that would not take Jews, would you think me anti-christian? Or if I wouldn't go to a school that didn't admit blacks, would you think me anti-white?

Of course you wouldn't.

For me, I don't see any difference with marriage. It is unfortunately a segregated institution. Now the brides and grooms may not want it to be segregated, but that doesn't change the fact that it is. In the same way that an individual member of the country club might want to let minorities in, but if the club doesn't change its rules, he's just
a really nice guy who is a member of a segregated club.

I was taught by my parents that segregation was unacceptable. When I came to think of marriage in these terms, I could no longer attend them. No matter how much I love the bride and groom.

Here's an interesting fact: The times I've been tested on this point-- when I've received wedding invitations and declined them-- my resulting relationships with the couples have grown stronger. Our friendships have not suffered. Perhaps because my friends have valued my honesty and my commitment to what is right and just.

I've actually been hearing from many straight people who have chosen to not marry until we all can. I applaud their choice. BUT I would never ask a straight couple to make that sacrifice. The price is so high. I know this first hand. In the first ten years of my relationship, my inability to wed has cost my partner and I an additional $100,000 just on health insurance. (hard to believe but true). I would never ask people to put themselves in such an extremely perilous economic position.

Here's the thing about what I'm doing and asking others to do: we're just skipping a party. The fact that it seems like such a big deal, demonstrates just how important marriage is. And what a disadvantaged position gays and lesbians are placed in by not being afforded equal rights.

If I were to accept an invitation to a wedding and attend, I would be sending the message that I agree with the current definition of marriage in America. And I do not?

Do you?

my best,

Ken

It's called Segregation

2008-12-31T10:22:00.000-08:00

I've gotten a bunch of notes from people is response to the holiday message I sent to members of The Marrying Kind group on Facebook, so I decided to post it here: Hope it inspires you.

I wish you all health, peace, and happiness. What I especially wish and pray for is that we will all have equality in our life times.

Several years ago, I stopped saying that I support same-sex marriage rights and I started saying that I support the end of marriage segregation. Many people would rather not think of marriage in terms of segregation. But of course that's what it is in the United States and many other countries around the world.

Whether or not one supports same-sex marriage has been allowed to become a philosophical debate. Somehow, whether or not one supports gay marriage has no impact on a person's character. How did that happen? Our beloved, and respected ( I respect him, too) President-Elect does not support gay marriage rights. This is an acceptable position even among many liberals.

However what happens if we change the language? President-elect Obama (And more that half the country) support segregation. That somehow feels less acceptable, doesn't it?

Framing marriage-rights in terms of segregation is honest and explains the rage so many of us who support the end of marriage segregation feel.

My guess is that you would not have joined The Marrying Kind if you didn't believe segregation was wrong. I credit my parents for instilling this belief in me. I don't go to weddings because it sends the message that I support segregation. And I do not.

I ask that you will all talk to others about marriage in terms of segregation. Tell your friends how that makes you feel.

Oh, and since it's Christmas time, I'm wondering if you'd all play Santa for me and get some of your anti-segregationist friends of yours to join The Marrying Kind. If you can't invite everyone, even two or three new members from each of you would be a delight!

Again, my best wishes for the season

Ken O'Neill

http://www.new.facebook.com/group.php?gid=20197089649&ref=mf

God Help Us

2008-12-18T06:48:00.000-08:00

Once again I'm feeling that gays are dispensable. That our rights don't matter. That we, as a segment of the U.S. population, are insignificant. I don't want to feel this way.

What's got me riled this morning?

The news that President-elect Obama has chosen Rick Warren to deliver the invocation at his inauguration. Rick Warren who worked to get Prop 8 passed in California.

Feeling the need to deliver an olive branch to Christian conservatives, Obama has slapped gays in the face. The message is clear: We don't matter.

I urge you all to let your voices be heard. Tell President-elect Obama that you are troubled by his selection.

You can write him here: http://change.gov/page/content/contact/webloc

Below is the letter I just wrote:

Dear President-elect Obama,

I'm honored to have had the privilege of voting for you. And I truly believe you are our nation's best hope. Your intellect and demeanor are exactly what are required as we enter this extremely difficult chapter in our history. I wish you the best.

I must say, however, that I am deeply troubled by your choice to include Rick Warren as a part of your inauguration . This man actively worked to see that Prop 8 passed in California. At a time when so many in the GLBT community feel that the promise of change that your candidacy brought was delivered to all Americans except gays, this choice reinforces that troubling feeling.

Sir, when you were born your own parents could not have wed in every US state. That marriage segregation was wrong. The exclusion of gays and lesbians from this most basic of rights is equally wrong.

I understand that you do not support the end of marriage segregation. I knew this when I voted for you. And though I strongly disagree with you on this point, my respect for you, and my support of so many of your other positions inspired me to work for your campaign.

I am asking, as a supporter of yours, and as a gay American, for you to reconsider having someone as divisive as Rick Warren speak at your inauguration.

Please.

Because there should be no place for segregation in the United States.

Respectfully,

Ken O'Neill

40 years after Milk

2008-12-05T11:41:00.000-08:00

I saw Milk this morning. It's a fine film filled with great performances, especially from Sean Penn as the late Harvey Milk. The movie spans the years 1970 -1978. And focuses on Milk's last year of life when he was the first openly gay elected official in the country.

It's hard not to draw comparisons between 1978 and 2008. They're both years in which Californians went to the polls to decide on the fates of their gay neighbors. In '78 it was prop 6 a bill to force gay teachers out of the school system. This year, of course, was prop 8, the bill making it illegal for gays and lesbians to wed.

One likes to believe we've come so far in 40 years. And indeed in many ways we have. We are more visible, we have more power. We have followed the advice of Harvey Milk and so many of us have come out of the closet.

But now, as I think about the film just three hours after viewing it, I wonder just how much progress we've really made?

In 1978 when Californians were asked to deny their gay neighbors rights, the bill was overwhelmingly defeated. Back then, voters decided on the side of civil rights. But this year -- 40 years later-- when voters in California went to the polls they chose to deny their gay neighbors civil rights.

I'm not sure what lesson there is to learn from this. Perhaps that we must remain vigilant. And that we must fight until we all have equality. Settling for things being better is not enough. When things are equal we can rest.

Harvey Milk asked for thousands to follow in his footsteps, to do the work he began. Let us all hear his call.

Tying the knot

2008-12-01T10:17:00.000-08:00

I came across a marriage equality website today that I wanted to let you all know about. It's called whiteknot.org Please visit the site and participate.

The idea is a simple one: wear a white ribbon tied in a knot as a symbol that every person, regardless of sexual orientation, should have the right to marry.

As I write about this today, on World AIDS day, I think about the powerful symbol the red ribbon was, and continues to be, in raising recognition about the AIDS crisis. In the 80s and early 90s, at a time when so many people were refusing to take action-- to even utter the word AIDS-- people of conscience donned ribbons and forced a conversation to happen. The ribbon brought an end to silence and forced politicians into action. Action that led to research and hope.

I think about my own brother, Gene, today who died in 1996 from AIDS. I remember the first time I saw him wearing a ribbon, I remember him making me one, pinning it to my lapel. Being so strong when I was not.

Today, I will make myself a whiteknot. I will make one for my partner. I will make them for my friends. As I so often do, I will think about my brother while I tie these knots. I'll remember his humor, his strength, his spirit. If he were alive, I know he'd be by my side, in the fight for marriage equality. He'd be buying the white ribbon right now.

We must none of us be silent on this civil rights issue. I'm actually rather shy, quiet. My brother was the outgoing one. Still, I will force myself not to cower, not to be afraid. I will speak the truth about marriage segregation. And when it's difficult finding the words, I'll let the whiteknot speak for me.

I hope you will as well.

No More Mr. Nice Gay

2008-11-07T13:46:00.000-08:00

Something dramatic has shifted in the mood of gays & lesbians I've been in contact with. It started Wednesday, after the euphoria of the Obama election started passing and the realization that we had somehow taken two steps forward and three back. We, as a group, have found our anger and our voice. Because, this wasn't the CHANGE we were hoping for. The promise of change was not supposed to strip us of rights. The promise of change was not supposed to be just for some. The WE, of Yes we Can, was supposed to include me, too.

And so we must respond. And protesting has begun. I am, and most people I know are thrilled by the prospect of an Obama white house. That does not mean we shut up about the injustices of Tuesday.

I urge everyone who supports equality to start making some noise. Take to the streets, write a letter, skip a wedding. Do something.

Today I received a note from a man in California who moved there from NY 6 months ago to marry his partner. I can not begin to imagine the pain he must be feeling now. From his sadness, I imagine will come anger, from anger the conviction to fight. It's a feeling so many of us have now.

On facebook where I have my group The Marrying Kind, several hundred people have joined since Wednesday night. They in turn have invited their friends. Several other protest groups have formed.

This election was joyous but also shined a harsh light on the reality of life for gays and lesbians in America. Something has shifted. I don't think we will be complacent any longer.

You see, we heard the message. Followed the man's call. Supported, fought and believed.

WE STILL BELIEVE: CHANGE

Yes, we can.

Mom

2008-11-06T12:46:00.000-08:00

My mother called me this afternoon. That's nothing new, we talk several times a week on the phone. For the last several months our conversations have been mostly about politics. We're on the same side of issues so our chats were never heated, except when we were both upset about something the "other side" had said or done. Or we'd both seen Elizabeth on The View.

Today, she asked me how I was doing using her I-love-you-and-I'm-very-concerned voice.

"I'm fine," I said.

"I'm so, so sorry."

I wasn't following.

She was referring to the contests: Prop 8, Florida, Arizona, Arkansas. "It's horrible," she said. "I just don't understand."

When I first told my mother that my partner and I were no longer attending weddings as a form of protest, she said "okay but couldn't you just send your regrets without getting into the reason." She didn't want to offend anyone.

Today she was speaking in a very different way. How, she wondered, could someone vote for Obama and then also vote for hate? Did they not understand the message of CHANGE?

I had no answer for her.

Before we hung up, her voice began to crack. "I want you to know something. As far as I'm concerned you and Marcus are married. I pray someday the country will recognize that. I'm so proud of you."

I'm proud of you too Ma, I wanted to say. But the words didn't come.

victory

2008-11-05T09:04:00.000-08:00

Today, everywhere I look I see smiling faces on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Last night history was made with the election of Barack Obama. I heard the cheering crowds, and I joined them. Hope renewed.

This morning I awoke to discover that same-sex marriage bans had passed in Florida and Arizona. Arkansas passed legislation keeping gays from adopting. And proposition hate (I mean, 8) will likely pass.

How is it that all of these Americans excited by the prospect of change do not want change for gays and lesbians?

Today is a joyous day. But it is also for me terribly bittersweet. Our journey will be long, our road filled with obstacles, we must persevere. We must fight. For CHANGE is for all of us.

I urge you all to say how thrilled you are about the results of this presidential election. And then add the But.... But I am saddened, frustrated, recommitted to the cause of equality.

We have seen a black man become president in our life times. I don't believe we will see an openly gay or lesbian president in my lifetime. It certainly can't happen until we have equal rights. If we can't serve in the military, If we can not marry, we can not lead our country.

Please, if you have not already, join me in boycotting federally recognized marriage until every US citizen can wed.

Chuck & Larry?

2008-09-30T14:55:00.000-07:00

I just this moment opened an e-mail from HRC. And I learned that last week at a Senate hearing on equal family benefits for LGBT federal workers, the Bush Administration's Howard Weitzman referenced the plot of the Adam Sandler movie I Now Pronounce you Chuck & Larry, which is a homophobic little romp about two straight guys pretending to be gay, as EVIDENCE that the program would be scammed.

Honestly, not since I can see Russia from my house, have I heard anything more ludicrous.

I urge you to check out the HRC website. If I had more tech savvy the link would be write here. But I don't, so please type it in. They have a petition calling for equal benefits for same-sex federal workers--Gosh, does that mean they don't already have the same benefits as their straight counterparts-- please sign it.

making new "friends"

2008-09-27T09:18:00.001-07:00

Hi all,

I've been spending a lot of time making new facebook friends as I talk about The Marrying Kind. What I'm suggesting (I'm discovering) feels pretty radical to a lot of people. Here's what I wrote to someone who thought getting straight couples to stop getting married was a good idea ( I agree, by the way) but he thought not going to weddings was not a good idea (I disagree, by the way). Especially bad if the couples were poor.

Below: my response

In the US most marriage ceremonies are big events. (Even when the couples are poor).

I completely agree that it would be fantastic if straight couples stayed unwed in solidarity. But, I find that movement a little daunting to take on (especially, since I'm even having trouble convincing people to avoid buying microwaves and toasters). I promise, if you start that facebook group, I will join it -- gladly!

While I really believe that my plan can work--because affecting the economy does create change--there is another reason that I no longer attend weddings. And it is this reason most of all that keeps me at home on my friends big day. I find being there unbelievably painful. Even when it's the wedding of people I truly love.

It is against (federal) law for me to get married. It's illegal. The life I have made with my partner for 11 years is unlawful. Why must I be a good sport, and slap a smile upon my face, and kiss the bride and toast them and celebrate. I have done it for years and I know longer can. My attendance sends the message that I approve of the current definition of marriage in America. I DO NOT.

Do you?

I am tired. I am angry. And I want justice.

I understand that most others don't feel this strongly. But it's interesting to examine why we, as a group, don't. If I started a facebook group inviting people to stop going to clubs that wouldn't let blacks or jews, or any other group in I'd have had thousands of members.

Yet what I'm up to seems, to me, to be the same thing. I can go to the wedding. I can eat the meal. Listen to the band. But I can't join. Not in a real way. So really. why should I want to be there. I have more self respect than that.

And, I can tell you, when I have explained my position to my straight engaged friends they have understood. I have not lost friends over this position of mine. In fact, I have forged stronger bonds.

I ask you to help me by telling your friends what I'm up to. I realize many others will feel as you do. And of course that's ok. But maybe for one or two The Marrying Kind will resonate. I'd love to have them join me -- I could use the help.

my best regards,

Ken O'Neill

www.themarryingkind.org

The 30 Billion Dollar Designer Original

2008-09-18T12:40:00.000-07:00

The other day I learned that last year alone thirty billion dollars was spent on wedding dresses in the United States.

"How much?" I said, after hearing the staggering sum.

Hearing that figure recommitted me to this movement and to the idea of creating a group of committed individuals who are systematically chipping away at the US wedding industry by non involvement in the marriage economy.

How about we shoot to lower that number to below 20 billion next year?

Some really amazing straight women have joined The Marrying Kind facebook group. I'm somewhat surprised by the number. But I guess I shouldn't be. I think, in particular, women understand the importance of a wedding. The importance of what being able to say, "we are married," means in this society. And they understand that anything less than being married-- being in a civil union, or domestic partnership-- is not equality. It's another way of saying you are less.

As I wrote about in a prior blog, I heard from one woman who, along with her boyfriend, have decided not to marry until gays and lesbians can marry. (note: when I say marry, I mean Federal marriage). I think it's amazing that they're doing that. But I also know that's more than most straight couples will be willing to do. Because, as gay couples are already painfully aware, all those federal rights are really hard to live without.

But I do believe there are a lot of straight couples, who might be willing to get married without the party, without the dress, the band, the favors. Maybe, in the end, it will be a lot of straight women of conviction, who by slashing the budgets for their weddings, make the difference in gays and lesbians having equality.

Maybe these straight women will create a new kind of ceremony for themselves: Just her and her beloved, maybe a few family members and friends (who haven't bought any presents) a justice of the peace. Maybe they're standing on the beach, he's in a pair of old faded jeans; she wears an ancient sundress. They're sharing the vows they wrote themselves.

When they've finished--when they're married--She thanks their friends for coming. But there is no dinner. Instead, they promise their friends that there will be a party someday. They just don't know when. It might take awhile.

And then... who knows? Maybe Vera Wang, shocked by her plummeting dress sales, makes a phone call. She must know important political people. Don't you think? She's Vera Wang!

This is how change happens. (Okay maybe not the Vera Wang part) But, maybe.

It's just about thinking in a different way. And always believing that one person can make a difference.

And remember, nobody looks that great in that super expensive, giant white dress.

Wouldn't you be more comfortable in something you already have in your closet?

The Kindness of Strangers

2008-08-30T09:07:00.000-07:00

The Marrying Kind movement -- a boycott of the marriage economy-- is in its infancy. The boycott will continue until equal federal marriage rights are granted to same-sex couples. The challenge, at this early stage, has been how to spread the word and get others to join me in this fight.

How exactly do I get the attention of people and explain to them that refusing to attend marriages, as long as they remain segregated institutions, will go a long way in bringing about change? How do I convince people to stop buying wedding presents? How exactly do I, and all those involved in The Marrying Kind, chip away at the profits of the wedding economy and become Williams-Sonoma's worst nightmare?

My web designer, Ping Fang suggested I start a group on Facebook to bring attention to the boycott. I'd been invited in the past to join Facebook, but never really saw the point of spending time online with friends when it seems hard enough to find time to spend with friends in real life.

As I began exploring Facebook, I stumbled upon groups called I love cheese (and I love bacon). There was one called Close your Damn Legs, directed at subway riders who hog seats. These groups, and countless others, each have thousands of members. Amazing.

Millions of people support marriage equality, so I was convinced my group would attract vast numbers on Facebook. The Marrying Kind group offers positive action steps to achieve that goal. Soon, I was sure, The Marrying Kind would be bigger than I Love Cheese. After all, I reasoned Facebook must be filled with people who are lactose intolerant or saturated-fat phobic, or just don't like the taste. How many of its members really want to see gays and lesbians marginalized and disenfranchised?

So I joined Facebook, formed the group and invited fifty or so friends and then I waited. For days it was a group of two: myself and my amazing web designer, Ping Fang. Soon after, my oldest and dearest friend, Alison joined. Within five days we were twenty.

A week later we reached twenty-three members. Even though I hadn't done very much to actively solicit members, despair was setting in. I could not bring myself to check what I was convinced would be the rapidly growing membership of I love cheese. (Could they have reached one million?) Disgusted by the swarms of cheddar-lovers, I decided to eliminate dairy from my diet. Also, I briefly toyed with the idea of starting a group called, I loathe cheese. I abandoned that notion as being a time waste which would do nothing to bring about gay marriage rights.

My morning routine became log onto Facebook, confirm that the group remained a static twenty-three. Then I'd make coffee (fortunately, what with my dairy ban, I drink it black).

Miraculously, one morning while checking on The Marrying Kind group, I saw that we had jumped to twenty-eight members. My friends were coming through for me! Those thirty or so friends of mine who had ignored my invitation finally were having a change of heart. They were joining.

But no. These five new members were not friends of mine, nor did we have friends in common. The new members were all students or alumni from Kent State. Kent State? How did that happen?

Here's how: I received a note and a "friend request" from a woman named Marta Roueiheb. She had come upon the group while searching facebook and immediately responded to my call to action. She told me that she's been with her boyfriend, Jason Byard, for six years, but long ago they decided they would not wed until gay marriage was legalized. She and Jason joined The Marrying Kind. Marta invited over one hundred of her friends.

I was amazed and excited and unbelievably moved that a couple who can legally marry have chosen not to until I can get married too.

Within two days, our membership had passed forty-- still a small group. But considering half of the members are friends of one straight couple I've never met, who live in a state I've never visited, it's truly exciting.

I imagine other Marta and Jason's -- all over the country, at every university-- finding the website or this blog or the Facebook group, and being similarly moved. These people will join. They will tell their friends. They will invite others. And like the old shampoo ad-- And So On, And So On, And So On...

I know college years are about, among other things, school rivalries. Surly no university wants to be out done by Kent State on the issue of supporting justice. From Harvard to Berkley, I ask others to follow the lead of Marta, Jason and their friends at Kent State.

Tomorrow, when I wake, who knows. Maybe I'll have a new Friend from Yale.

Please hurry, equality is at stake. Also, I'd love to eat a piece of cheese.

California, here I come?

2008-08-27T10:42:00.000-07:00

Now gay marriage is legal in California. And, though New York state does not have gay marriage, our governor, David Patterson has announced that out of state ceremonies will be recognized by the state. Massachusetts, realizing how much revenue they stood to lose by not performing weddings for out-of-state gay couples, quickly changed their laws. And now they're more than happy to take all the queer cash that will come flooding into the state.

And so, gay and lesbian couples who live in New York state can now easily wed, in two of our fifty states. But should they?

If you want to declare your love for each other in a formal way in front of your family and friends, by all means you should. As focused as I am on the rights associated with marriage, I understand there are couples who strongly desire the spiritual bond that comes with that ritual.

If one of the two members of the couple works for New York state and has a pension (like a firefighter, for example) probably you should get married tomorrow to secure the pension for your spouse.

If, for you, getting married is its own form of protest, hurry up and tie the knot.

If, however, after getting the license and having the ceremony you are expecting to have your relationship recognized by the United States of America, you're going to have to wait to get married.

I was saddened to read that when next we take our U.S. survey, gay & lesbian couples who have legally wed in CA, MA or Canada and who check the box "Married" when filling their forms, will have the answer changed to living together/partnered. The reason being that, because of DOMA, checking the married box is a lie in the eyes of our government. No matter what you say, Uncle Sam says, "No way. Sorry. You aren't married."

We have no money for health care, education or the arts in this country, but, apparently, we do have enough money to pay some guy to cross out married and write in partnered on census forms. That's someone's job!

So when people ask me why I'm boycotting weddings when I can so easily get married in California, I explain how thrilled I am that California has taken this step toward equality. How delighted I am for the couples who have chosen to wed. And I tell them that, for my partner and me, it's not enough. We want all the rights and recognitions afforded straight couples. Assuming the federal government doesn't burn through all of social security paying the census guys to re-write the forms of homos, I'd like to know my partner and I will receive each other's benefits, inherit each other's estates without being taxed and the 1300 other things we're denied as a gay couple.

Perhaps marriage shouldn't be about money. But the fact is that denying gays federal marriage is a very effective way to keeps us, as a group, economically disadvantaged. And money and progress go together. When African American's stopped getting on the bus, things began to change.

Just as Massachusetts began allowing out-of-state gays to wed when they realized how much money they were going to lose to California, pressure on the federal government to recognize same-sex marriage will come from the one hundred billion dollar wedding industry when they realize that five or ten or twenty percent of their income has stopped because people of conscience have ceased participating the marriage economy.

When federal law changes, who knows, California might be a lovely spot for a ceremony.

Both Sending and feeling regrets

2008-08-21T16:01:00.000-07:00

I can't begin to tell you what a snap it is to skip weddings when no one's inviting you to any.

How I thought about the day when an invitation would finally come. It would be from my father's third cousin-once removed, who, though present at my christening, had been absent from my life since. Sorry, no can do, I'd write on my response card. I'm Gay, I don't attend weddings. And then, after having taken the moral high ground with a complete stranger I could forget about this political position of mine.

And then the day arrived when an invitation came--not from my hoped for stranger. But from one of my closest friends. I'll call her Davy, since that's her real name. Davy's not my oldest friend, but she was one of the first people that my partner, Marcus, and I met together. She was the first friend to be given the label "Our Friend". And now "Our Friend" was getting married.

"Maybe we should make an exception." Marcus said it, though I was thinking it as well. But there was no need to make an exception. Davy was aware of our stance before she even had a boyfriend. This was all going to be fine.

Except then suddenly it wasn't.

We kept suggesting that maybe we'd come. If not to the wedding, well... We briefly toyed with a let's-just-go-to-the-rehearsal-dinner loophole. We were wishy-washy and filled with doubts. Because, after all, what is the impact of a two person wedding boycott? And this person whose event we're boycotting is a beloved, she is not a third cousin (once removed).

And so we stalled. We stammered. We avoided. And then one night over dinner I just blurted out, "We're not coming." It was a horribly awkward moment, but Davy assured us she understood.

A week or so later, Marcus and I hosted a screening of our (she used to be just mine when I was single) friend, Jennifer Westfeldt's film Ira and Abby. In the film, the characters marry and divorce multiple times. After the movie was over, Davy asked me how I could be so supportive of a film about marriage. She was clearly hurt. I had no idea what to say. I worried our friendship would be irreparably damaged.

In the weeks that followed we had several talks. I tried to explain what I was trying to accomplish by not going. This was difficult, because I wasn't really sure what I wanted to accomplish. I just knew the ache I felt inside. My own longing to be wed. My desire for change.

The week of the wedding Davy said she was having a pre-wedding, pre-rehearsal, cocktail party. Davy was originally from LA and she was marrying a French man, so there were lots of out-of-towners in Manhattan. As a result she was hosting events all week long.

We decided to go for drinks. It wasn't the wedding. But it was a way to be supportive. When we arrived, Davy hugged me, we both got a little emotional. I knew everything was fine with us. I felt she was really okay with the choice we'd made. I didn't understand what had caused the shift. But I was relieved.

At the party, I chatted with a woman who I had come to know through Davy. As we parted to move on to other conversations she said, "See you Saturday."

"No. I won't be there."

She laughed. Slapped my arm, playfully. "Yeah, right. See you Saturday."

As we were about to leave, I saw a woman I did not know pushing her way through the crowd to speak to us. It was Davy's father's girlfriend we quickly learned--a television writer and producer from LA. She introduced herself and said, "I just want you to know that I totally support what you're doing We were all talking about this last night at dinner. My writing partner is gay. He's my dear friend. We bought burial plots together, that's how close we are..."

She said more lovely things, but I can't recall them because I kept thinking it's the first family dinner of the wedding week and every one is talking about two gay guys not going to the wedding. I imagined the various opinions--pro and con. And in an instant I knew I had made the right choice.

All this conversation took place. This debating. This anger. This understanding. All of this thought was happening about this subject, because I wasn't going. None of it would have happened if I'd just gone.

Later I learned from mutual friends who had been there, that the conversation continued at the reception. As more friends inquired as to our absence.

I believe those conversations are vital. And I believe they only happen when with all respect I very sadly send my regrets.

How this all began

2008-08-05T13:20:00.000-07:00

I am the most reluctant of activists. My high school photo was not actually captioned 'Least Likely to Start a Movement'. But that's only because it had no caption at all. I wasn't really a joiner. Or a ring leader. Not a trouble maker. I was a go-with-the-flow guy.

But something happened to me. Slowly. Over time. I'd have a discontented feeling that I'd squash. An unpopular opinion I would not share. And then, all at once I could no longer do what was expected of me. I had to voice my dissent.

And this moment came while watching Oprah.

And not one of those Oprah young girls sold into prostitution shows. No. It was a sweet, fantasy wedding episode. I watched a beautiful wedding ceremony. And as I watched, I began to cry. First just a few tears. Then I began to wail violently. I couldn't catch my breath. I've never had a nervous breakdown. But it occurred to me that my exaggerated response to the televised nuptials of complete strangers might in fact constitute some kind of emotional collapse. I wept straight through the commercial break.

When the show resumed, Oprah was back in her studio sitting with the wedding planner. To me, he seemed pretty gay. And all at once, I understood my tears. I was watching an event that I felt that I, as a gay man, would never be allowed to have. I wondered how conflicting it must be for that wedding planner to dedicate his life to creating events he was forbidden by Federal law from participating in. Then I thought about the whole wedding industry. the florists, organists, dress designers, cater-waiters. What would happen if gay people stopped working in the wedding industry? Straight people wouldn't be able to get married.

Well, of course they would. But the events wouldn't be nearly as fabulous.

Around this time I had attended four weddings in three months. One a gay couple in Holland, was unbelievable. Two gay men legally wed. The other three were straight couples in the USA. These three ceremonies were rough for me. I was happy for my American friends. But the events themselves were really painful. I attended with my partner. We had been together longer than any of these married couples had been together. I kept wondering if any of the newlyweds would give us special thanks for attending what was obviously a difficult event. Some special praise for attending the segregated event that bans us. But no thanks were offered.

Soon after, we decided to stop attending weddings and we don't give gifts. I refuse to participate in the wedding economy in anyway until all Americans have equal federal marriage rights. My partner and I are encouraging everyone to join us.

I'll be back soon to write about what happened the first time we declined a wedding invitation for moral reasons.