Taking a day off to work on my other job(s). Back tomorrow!
In gratitude for life, love and surprises, I’m re-running this.
It’s all still true.
Cinderella I Ain’t
Originally published March 15, 2009
We were at the Black and White Ball last night in Missoula to benefit the Western Montana LGBT Community Center. It all started out fine. My clothes fit, I looked pretty good, Ken was handsome, a great circle of friends- dinner with people I love very much, and a ballroom full of people who supported me and my relationship as much as I supported theirs (or their desire to have some such). The atmosphere was nurturing, mostly. There were a few people obviously avoiding other people, but it wasn’t ugly or drama-filled or really at all awkward.
I was enjoying myself and my partner and my friends and the party immensely, and then something happened.
It crossed my mind later that the old cliche’ “there I was minding my own business, when suddenly…” seems to apply here. I really was. Minding my own business, I mean. I was talking to Hobie about something sort of innocuous but interesting, when Ken grabbed my hand and said to Hobie, “Could you excuse us for a minute?”
I was confused. Ken doesn’t really do that. Interrupt, I mean. And he hasn’t ever just grabbed me and pulled me aside for any reason that I can remember. I thought, “Oh shit, I’ve had a few drinks and maybe said something that I shouldn’t have and this is his way of telling me to keep my big mouth shut. That’s sweet- and a little embarrassing. I wonder what I said?” He was pulling me toward the front of the ballroom- toward the band, which was playing “A Rainy Night in Georgia” and the less crowded area of the dance floor. I figured I should ask him what was up. “Is there something wrong?” I said into his ear. He just grabbed my hand tighter and took me out onto the dance floor. “Nope,”he said. “I love this song and just wanted to dance with you.”
I was stunned.
Ken doesn’t dance. Or so he says. I’ve tried to get him to dance with me, but he’s always refused saying he feels he looks like a big, awkward bird and has no rhythm, is accident prone and etc. I always say it doesn’t matter, I don’t care what you look like or how you dance and still, he’s not been up for it. And so, we haven’t danced.
I didn’t push it, because there are certain things I don’t like to do- long distance running for instance, that Ken enjoys. I figured if I let some of mythings go I wouldn’t be pressured to go jogging or spend six hours in a shoe store. It’s that compromise place you reach when you love someone so much you realize that part of what you love is their difference– there’s no need to be exactly alike or enjoy the same things. Otherwise, why bother having a partner at all? I want someone who shows me the view from their life, through eyes and experiences not my own. And this he does. Sometimes with a grace that takes my breath away. Sometimes it’s more akin to blunt force trauma. Mostly it’s somewhere in between. But tonight-
He pulled me close and kissed me lightly and we gracefully moved to the music. In a room filled with people that didn’t see us as freaks or perverts or abominations of nature, we simply danced. A very normal thing for people in love to do in a public place where there’s music….
It was wonderful. Stunning. Perhaps one of the best moments of my life. I felt safe and at ease and excited and, well, just right. I still do.
And as the music ended, and I felt all warm and happy, full of love and grateful for the surprise of this man, I found myself thinking, ever so briefly, “I’m going to return the favor someday.”
I don’t think it’ll be running, though.
I have to admit, I went in completely biased.
Like many of you, I watched the Academy Award acceptance speech with tears in my eyes.
“…if Harvey had not been taken from us 30 years ago, I think he would want me to say to all of the gay and lesbian kids out there tonight who have been told that they are less than by their churches, or by the government, or by their families, that you are beautiful, wonderful creatures of value, and that no matter what anyone tells you, God does love you and that very soon I promise you, you will have equal rights federally across this great nation of ours.”
Like I said, completely smitten biased.
But when he began talking about not settling for “close, but not there”, and not giving up on the vision of panoramic human rights, and overcoming the paralysis of fear- “put your pencil on the paper and start moving it- something has to happen”, I knew my predisposition toward this gentle, fiery soul was completely justified. He talked not so much about activism as the promotion of reality- the reality that LGBT people are everywhere, they just want to love and be loved, and they’re not going away. And he’s right. We aren’t.
Unless we give up.
I sat in a full Ballroom at Montana State university with students, teachers, parents, cowboys and a few kids. This was a crowd that could have been distributed down Main Street, Bozeman, and it wouldn’t have seemed different from the normal pedestrian traffic. People listened to this young man- whose story of a rural Mormon upbringing probably hit close to home to many in the audience, with rapt attention punctuated by laughter and enthusiastic applause. Here was a non-apologetic gay man standing in front of a group in a (generally) conservative state whose constitution explicitly prohibits him from full equality, and his story was received respectfully, even enthusiastically. His story and vision no different from my own.
I then had a realization.
It wasn’t new, it had been knocking on the back door of my brain for a while, but I was now able to hear it. It was this:
I had turned all these people into the bullies from my childhood and young adulthood. I had created an enemy/threat out of people who were probably neither. I was projecting. (The irony of my professional blind spot is not lost on me here) I had imposed my childhood fears on (almost) every Montanan- and I’m not a child. I had allowed this weird, unarticulated fear to hold me back.
I don’t want to do that anymore. So I’m going to pay attention to the injustice sensor whenever it goes off- not just when it’s safe. That was my gift from Dustin Lance Black.
Well, one of them.
He answered my question about religion’s scarring of some LGBT’s with “every religion has something important to say. Mine taught me love and respect of family. …but religion is not its leaders. I wouldn’t listen to the leaders all the time. And anger and hurt about religion didn’t keep me from being spiritual.” He talked with people afterward, meeting every one who waited to see him. Of course, I stood in line.
I got a hug, a brief chat about my crazy life story and was able to thank him for his availability and candor. He thanked me right back. Gracious. From the word grace, meaning “elegance or beauty of form, manner, motion, or action”.
Elegant activism. I think I can do that.
Thanks, Lance.
Yes. It’s true. I joined The Twitter.
There are way too many easy jokes to make about it- especially the amount of uncouth words containing “t” “w” and, again, “t”.
Not to mention the fun with vowels.
We’ll see. If there are any experienced Twits out there, I would appreciate the help….
During my sojourn in Seattle, I took only my iPad (well, along with clothes and toothpaste). In part, I wanted to see if I could do most everything with it, instead of lugging my MacBook, my Kindle, and my iPad.
The short answer is no.
I couldn’t update my blog very easily, and I certainly couldn’t do email and responding to facebook posts with the ease with which I was accustomed. So, there’s the explanation for the silence. I’ll be getting a few good things together this weekend.
By the way, all but one of my blood tests are back- and it looks like I passed…. 🙂
Time to leave the Estate behind and journey back to the Sound for labs and a pulmonary check up. I’ll be there from Saturday till next Thursday noon- if you want to get together, give me a ring!
A slide show of images
with flashes of faces,
glimpses, varietal vistas
I love and not love, yet.
With sounds and tastes and
scents to complement rain,
snow and sunshine, grass,
flowers and falling leaves.
The highway between
home and Sound, palm trees,
pride, babysitting and dogs,
airports, books and a dream.
The family- biological and
accidental, chosen and
necessary, met, unmet,
imagined and realized, all here.
Joints and hands, hair,
fingers and skin, eyes
and ears- older, wiser
maybe, complain anyway.
And handful of pills-
all different colors, shapes,
do their thing inside
and life, grateful, continues.
The houses, the faces,
funerals, weddings, hospitals,
parties, debates, lonely quiet,
advance, retreat and sleep.
Love as puppy breath,
too-early mornings with
him and them, us, all of us,
at home- anywhere we are.
~D Gregory Smith
From my meditation time today, I realized the following truth:
“The root of great personal wisdom for me consists of two things:
Knowing when to hold on and knowing when to let go.”
~D Gregory Smith
Meet Phyllis.
She’s a Chihuahua/Corgi cross (officially, they’re called Chigis, but I’m going with Corhuahua). She was abandoned, and our boys Clint and Scott took her in until they could find her a good home.
All they had to do was show Ken her picture at the Y.A.P. dinner last weekend…. (I said “No” at first, but I kinda knew it was a done deal) and a few days later we were in.
Isn’t that the cutest face you’ve ever seen?
This will be my first puppy since Albert, so it’s kind of a big deal for me, but the thought of some company in my big house makes me feel really good. I’m ready- and I’m sure Bandit will love her.
She’s coming from Billings on Thursday and we’re very excited- stay tuned!
Greg squared
The Yellowstone AIDS Project fundraiser last night was great. The auction items were cool; the people were great; Greg Louganis recounted his path from 3 year-old dancer to Olympic champion to humanitarian and coach. Loved being part of it all to help raise money for a very worthy cause.
This was my favorite quote of the evening:
“Never underestimate your ability to make someone else’s life better- even if you never know it. Just be your best self- it can change the world.”
I’ve gotten to know this guy a bit, and I am happy to say, he’s the real deal. His heart is large, his desire to make the world better is real, and his kindness and generosity made me (humbly) glad to be able to spend some time with him- and share the experience of my friend with the people here in Montana.
They got to know a man who worked hard to achieve his goals with such determination and drive that made me wonder if he was human. That wonder was quelled by the warmth and kindness he showed to me and my friends- and the humor, dedication and insight he shared during his presentation. His openness about being HIV-positive and gay and, (gasp), Californian, were inspiring. The casual comfort with which he presented himself and his life reminded me to not take myself too seriously- even though I’m not at all in his league.
Maybe that’s what everyone else who shared that night was thinking- and I guess that just proves my point.
Thanks, Greg- mission accomplished.
Oh, and thanks for eating my tuna sandwiches….
From Eternity To Here 