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Posts Tagged ‘The Gays’

Ladies and gentlemen, I present “How I spent my first St. Patrick’s Day back in Atlanta.”

7:46 a.m. Wake up to the doorbell. Apparently, it is playtime in the neighborhood. The hooligans I live with head outside to terrorize each other and assorted friends.

11:30 a.m. Finish watching the last episode of the last season of “Game of Thrones.” I’m excited, aroused, worried, repulsed, mad, sad — all in equal measure. I need to talk to someone about it. I’m so far behind in finally seeing it, though, no one wants to talk to me.

2:10 p.m. Nap while watching recorded episodes of “The Voice.”

5:30 p.m. Make the soup that we like for dinner. Compliments all around. Pregame. Realize it is too early to pregame.

7:10 p.m. Take Nap Two. (I’m elderly. Leave me alone.)

8:50 p.m. Dominic notices that I’ve put myself together. The following conversation ensues.

Dominic: “Are you going out tonight?”
Me: “Yes. Rene and I are going to some thing called ‘Psycho Disco.'”
Dominic: “Well, don’t get murdered by a psycho. If someone comes up to you, turn your usual reporter mode off and run.”

8:51 p.m. Document the conversation on Facebook (because if it is not documented, did it even happen?).

8:55 p.m. Tell René I’m on my way. He tells me I’m early; he is not ready. I tell him I’ll cool my jets. Men.

9:02 p.m. Amuse myself by reading responses to the FB post.

9:15 p.m. Call for Lyft. Help Tarrant find me as I am on the side of the road (getting into apartment complex is a pain). Fetch René.

9:44 p.m. Arrive at The Music Room. It’s not open yet, but the barbecue place next door is. 9:49 p.m. Celebrate St. Patrick’s Day like I always do: by drinking an Irish Car Bomb. It’s tradition. Usually, this tradition involves The Royce, but he is in Savannah with Mike Pence and Mother (barf), so I had to carry on without him.

10:22 p.m. Go next door (now open) and meet René’s friend, DJ Tracy Levine. She is tiny, impeccably dressed and energetic. She also plays amazing house music for the seven people in the bar. It’s still early.

10:30-11:45 p.m. Listen to DJ Tracy upstairs. Go downstairs where there are more people to watch, but then have to endure a DJ that is not as gifted. Go back upstairs to dance. Go back downstairs to watch. Lather, rinse, repeat.

11:54 p.m. I’ve lost René.

12:30 a.m. Take Uber to Atlanta Eagle. I am the only one of my kind there. Also, it’s leather night. So.

1:11 a.m. Wait for Uber outside because now we are going to Blake’s. A woman rushes up to me: “Hi! So good to see you!” I don’t know her, but I see a guy right behind her. I quietly ask her if she is OK, or if she is trying to get away from this guy. Girl code. Then I see another woman with them. I ask her if everything is OK. She says, “Oh yeah, they’re together. She’s just drunk and friendly.” Aha. Then our Uber chariot appears.

She’s adorable, right? And extra.

1:24 a.m. “Do not pinch me. I’m wearing green,” I say to the fellow who has just tried to pinch me. I show him my shamrock. (My necklace. Come on!)

1:35 a.m. Blake’s is THE place to be, apparently. Let the mingling, chatting, dancing and whatnot commence! No, I do not want another beer. I’m good. Thank you very much.

2:21 a.m. Surprise stop at Waffle House on the way home. Scattered, covered, diced and capped, please.


3:11 a.m. Shower and go to bed. I’m too tired to take the towel off my hair.

8:53 a.m. Not taking the towel off last night was a mistake. My hair looks like a fright wig.

9:13 a.m. Text my friend Brian to tell him I went to the two gay bars he’s been telling me about. Without him.

9:30 a.m. Brian decides I’m going with him to see “Love, Simon” this afternoon. But that’s hours away.

Next weekend, René and I are supposed to go to the Northwest Georgia Bantam Club Winter Classic —  a poultry show. No, I’m not kidding. I can’t wait!

Stay tuned,
Beth

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The so-called Religious Freedom laws in Indiana and Arizona are polarizing, to be sure, and the events in Ferguson, Missouri, and beyond are more than disturbing. I thought we had evolved past the point of Other = bad. Not so. I was naive and stupid to think that because I believe difference = good, everyone else does too. This difference of opinion is not good. Ironic, I know.

I want welcoming and accepting voices to speak louder than those of people who do not believe all are created equal. Here’s another voice to add to the concert: Brian Harper in this guest post.

Dear gay people: 

You are my people and I love you. We should never tolerate being treated as lesser than anyone. If fact, no one should. It is nothing short of painful hearing religious leaders and politicians openly condescending to us daily. Imagine the message that kids are getting who are still figuring themselves out. It’s no wonder so many gay youth are committing suicide. This country is largely not a welcoming place, despite being referred to as the melting pot of the world. 

However, I’m really disappointed and sometimes shocked by the amount of name calling and hatefulness a lot of our community throws out at those who don’t agree with us. I understand and feel the anger and the pain and the frustration. How can people want so badly to control us and take away our simple happiness? Still, we have to do better. We can fight the good fight without tarnishing ourselves in the process. It’s easy to lash out towards ignorance with more ignorance. I’m guilty of it myself. I’m also acutely aware of how we are perceived the the statement we make with how we present our arguments. It’s important that we lead with love and empathy, wherever we can find it. Not everyone who thinks differently than us is bad. Most of them are just fearful of what they don’t understand. Sometimes it seems easier to beat people into submission, but that’s exactly what they are trying to do to us, and we deserve better. 

mike_pence-33269

 

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Dear Santa,

I’m running a bit late on this letter and I apologize. Clearly, I need plenty of help this year. I wish I could have given you more notice; I don’t think the elves can whip up the things on this list.

To borrow from Dr. Seuss and his Grinch:

Maybe Christmas doesn’t come from a store.
Maybe Christmas … perhaps … means a little bit more!

Here’s what I want for Christmas:

1. Some freakin’ patience. I’ve been with my children almost nonstop for weeks and there’s more to come as school is out. I’m trying to limit the “no more wire hangers” moments, but it’s rough.

2. A good, old-fashioned smiting. I know that’s usually God’s area, but I thought maybe you could help out a little with the hypocrites screaming that Phil Robertson‘s Freedom of Speech was violated. A&E isn’t the government, Freedom of Speech does not equal Freedom from Consequences, and weren’t these the same people calling the Dixie Chicks traitors?

3. Awareness of others for certain people. They clamor for attention daily (especially on Facebook) but cannot be bothered to remember other people’s birthdays or other important events.

4. Relief from some of the holiday trappings. Call me Scrooge, but I despise the Elf on the Shelf, “The Nutcracker,” and Christmas cards that start arriving right after Thanksgiving. (I hate them because that means the senders have their shit together. I don’t, especially when it come to cards. I’m thinking New Year’s cards sound good. In 2015.)

5. An end to the ridiculous “Merry Christmas” flap. Look, some people are sensitive to the fact that many people don’t celebrate Christmas. It’s not an attack against Christianity to say “Happy Holidays.” Is there NOTHING else to worry about? Oh wait … see No. 2.

6. The chance for Jack Kingston to live within a poor person’s means for a week. Maybe then he will understand that we are not all born equal. Low-income families certainly don’t choose to be low income. To suggest that children sweep floors to earn their subsidized lunches is beyond crass. He’s a real-life Mr. Potter!

7. Blake Shelton.

8. A silencer for anyone who wants to talk about Crossfit. It works. It’s great. Now shut up. It’s like this:

religion-is-like-a-penis

9. Some cold weather. It doesn’t feel like Christmas when it is 77. Does Mrs. Claus need to make another appeal to the Miser Brothers? (My tropical husband disagrees, but whatever.)

10. A return to robustness for the aforementioned tropical husband. He’s been in bed with a fever since Friday. It means I don’t have to worry about No. 8, but that’s sad for him.

Oh yeah, and peace on earth and goodwill to men (which I’d like to include marriage equality and an end to racism and classism, but maybe that’s just me). Also, an end to poverty.

You may not be able to deliver. If not, I understand. It’s short notice, plus it’s a tall order. I know. And we regular humans should really be doing a better job of walking the walk of loving and understanding our neighbors. (Uh oh. Didn’t I just ask for a smiting? All right. I’ll take the coal.)

Thanks anyway. See you tomorrow night!

Still a believer,
Beth

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Photo courtesy of Shane Marshall Brown

Photo courtesy of Shane Marshall Brown

Dear Shane and Jason:

Thank you so much for inviting me to your wedding. I haven’t cried at a wedding in years, but I cried at yours. Seeing wuv, true wuv made me emotional! Not that straight people don’t have true love too, but they don’t have problems making it legally binding.

(You obviously know how I feel about same-sex marriage, so I don’t need to go into great detail here.)

I just think if people could see what I saw, then there wouldn’t be any opposition. Love is love. Shane, look at your sweet face in this photo!

945154_10101436977751987_279929453_n

I feel honored that I could be a part of your special day, meet a whole passel of fun, self-proclaimed “theater gays,” and witness something truly wonderful. It even offered a teaching moment for my boys.

Dominic: “Why are you packing?”
Me: “Remember I’m going to my friends’ wedding?”
Dominic: “Oh right. Which friends?”
Me: “Shane and Jason.”
Dominic (looking at me for a beat): “Is Shane the girl?”
Me: “No.”
Dominic: “Jason’s the girl?”
Me: “No.”
Dominic: “They’re both boys?”
Me: “Yes.”
Dominic: “They’re gay?”
Me: “Yes.”
Dominic: “Gay people can get married?”

Yes, Dominic. They can in some places, and they should in more.

Do I love you because you’re beautiful, or are you beautiful because I love you? (from “Cinderella,” Rodgers and Hammerstein)

I think you two are beautiful. Thank you for letting me share in your big moment.

Love,
Beth

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Explanation of this post: Sometimes there’s only so much a straight girl can say in support of The Gays (and I promise this is the last post this week about this topic). Luckily, Chris, a friend of mine who happens to be gay, allowed me to share this letter he recently sent to an old high school “friend” who sent him a Facebook inbox message to tell him he couldn’t send him a friend request. Yes, you read that right.

http://www.someecards.com/confession-cards/gay-marriage-protest-straight-supreme-court-funny-ecard

Dear XXXXXXX,

Thanks for your message. I’m sorry that I don’t share your sadness about not being able to send me a friend request due to your concerns about my “immortal soul.” I would like, however, to point out that I’ve been doing just fine without your “friendship” for the past 30 years since graduation. And as I recall, I did fine without it then too. Unless of course you consider knowing each other’s names as “friendship.” Please don’t feel obligated to “pray for me.” Your prayers would be better used asking whomever you pray to for more important things, such as some intelligence, fashion advice or at the very least, the willpower to lose some weight.

Although we won’t be reminiscing about past good times together (we had none) or talking about my family (I’d be embarrassed for them to know you) or even discussing current events (you’ve obviously failed to grow up and are emotionally stunted so I’m sure holding an adult conversation would be challenging for you), I’m sure this will leave more time for your obvious other interests of attending Klan rallies, making love to farm animals, and looking up Bible verses to include in messages. (FYI, “Leviticus” is spelled the way I typed it; there’s no “a.”)

So take care. No need to write back. (It just takes too long for me to translate your misspellings, typos and grammatical errors.) I wish you the best (and by that I mean that you can kiss the darkest part of my ass).

My best to your fat wife (let her know those roots could use a touch up) and if they can stand to touch you, hug your kids for me.

Chris 🙂

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Stuck on Sue

Dear Readers:

I realized that I was a little too earnest in yesterday’s post. Ludicrous comments call for ludicrous responses though. Below is what I should have posted.

Enjoy!
Beth

Imaginary letters to Sue Everhart after her comments to the Marietta Daily Journal:

Fake letter to Sue Everhart

Fake letter to Sue Everhart

Fake letter to Sue Everhart

Fake letter to Sue Everhart

* An accident like this one

* Sound familiar?

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A joy named Sue

Sue Everhart

Dear Sue Everhart:

Congratulations for putting the Peach State in the headlines! Of course, it is for all the wrong reasons. Your comments to the Marietta Daily Journal reinforce the all-too-common notion that the South is full of bigoted idiots.

Remember that Mark Twain quote about being stupid? Let me refresh your memory:

It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.

Let’s recap your concerns about legalizing same-sex marriage:

  1. Straight people will pose as gay to reap benefits.
  2. Gay people don’t have the proper “equipment” to have sex.
  3. Gay parents influence their children’s sexual orientation.

Oh wow. Really, Sue? Really?

For once, I am speechless. I’m so shocked that someone would actually believe these things, let alone say them to a reporter. I don’t even know where to begin.

You start your diatribe by stating, “I’m going to get in trouble over this …”

Yes, Sue, you are. At least, I hope so. I hope there are enough rational people in Georgia and the nation to educate you on the subject of what gay people do and don’t do, can and can’t do, will and won’t do (as if “they” are any different from everyone else). But will you listen?

Georgia Trend named you one of the 100 Most Influential Georgians (2008, 2011, 2012), so you are used to people listening to you. How I hope this trend won’t continue.

At the very least, you may have to check in with your constituents before the next election. The tide is turning against haters like yourself.

Remember what you said after the November 2012 election?

image

“By the people, of the people and for the people” includes gay people too, as inconvenient as that is for you.

Or maybe this was just a poor attempt at an April Fools’ Day joke. Right, Sue?

Sue?

Sigh.
Beth

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Dear members of the GOP:

I know you are sad and licking your wounds today. This election battle was incredibly contentious with plenty of time, money and emotion invested.

As I am one of those voters you would like to target (the kind who votes for the person, not the party), I’d like to give you some tips on how you can win in 2016.

  • Pick a candidate people actually like. Even die-hard Republicans had trouble getting behind Romney. Cold and robotic don’t play well in politics. Just ask Al Gore. It says something when a Republican restaurant owner feels inspired to give the Democratic president a bear hug (and then of course gets ripped apart by other Republicans).

  • Don’t let your candidate and his wife talk about their three houses and four cars. It’s OK to have a successful person as a candidate, but don’t rub it in a struggling nation’s face.
  • Don’t alienate most of the country. Heinous bumper stickers with slogans such “Don’t Re-Nig” and T-shirts bearing the phrase “Put the white back in the White House” may play well among the racists, but we should all hope that is a small (and getting smaller) group.
  • Remember that gay people and women vote. If you are going to promote policies that negatively affect major groups of people, those people likely are going to vote against you.
  • Remember that Hispanics also vote. Anti-immigration policies that are a not-so-thinly veiled attack on Hispanics, especially Mexicans, are not going to be crowd-pleasers in the Hispanic community.
  • Don’t talk about abstract concepts that — while important — are not affecting the daily lives of citizens. The deficit is extremely important, but it is an abstract issue for most people. You know what is not an abstract issue? Same-sex marriage. Also Planned Parenthood. And Big Bird.

If you really wanted to defeat Obama, you should have picked someone like Jon Huntsman. He could have pulled in people from the middle and the left.

You have four more years to get the party back on track. The horse is out of the gate on same-sex marriage, legalization of marijuana, and other issues you have been fighting. Get with it. Shift party focus to economic issues. Join together and start talking about working with the Democrats to make this country stronger.

Better luck in 2016!
Beth

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Dear people who ate at Chick-fil-A today simply because Mike Huckabee declared it “Chick-fil-A appreciation day”:

I’m impressed: You decided you felt strongly enough about something that you got motivated to show support. Let’s ignore the fact that you got a meal while doing it.

Many people thought they were just showing support for “Christian” values. It sounds noble and all, but that reasoning is flawed. The God I know doesn’t discriminate. It’s “love thy neighbor” not “love thy straight neighbor.” But you can support whoever you want, whatever business you want, even if they donate money to hate groups. (Are you sure you want to give your money to a business that gives money to groups that actively persecute people? Really?)

The law, however, has to be fair to everyone — gay, straight, Christian, atheist, born here or naturalized. And the laws in this country regarding marriage are discriminatory. I’ve written about this before, so I won’t shove it down your throats again.

The reason I’m writing today is to ask you to do one small thing: Spend the same amount of time you spent in line today (or getting to the line in the first place) thinking about how you would feel if your government told you that you couldn’t marry the person you loved. Separate church from state. Please.

It’s 2012. Why are we as a nation doing the same kinds of things whites did to blacks decades ago? Didn’t we as a nation learn anything? Saying “You can’t do this because you’re not like us” just can’t be the way we do things today. It’s just not right.

So enjoy that chicken sandwich. I hope it was worth it — that you said what you REALLY wanted to say with your money.

And I respect your freedom to spend your money wherever you want, and your freedom to make a statement. In turn, I hope you respect mine.

Not eating “hate chicken,”
Beth

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Dear Dan Cathy:

I am impressed by your ability to lead Chick-fil-A, a business with 1,608 restaurants and sales of more than $4 billion last year. I’m also impressed that you publicly voice your beliefs, even if they are unpopular. (At least they seem to be unpopular in my social circle.)

You know you’ve chosen a tough road when even the Muppets hate you.

I fully support your ability as an American to support “the biblical definition of the family unit.” As I’ve mentioned before, I think people can support whatever they want in their church and private lives. But if we are talking about legislation, then we will have to agree to disagree.

All men are created equal” to me means that all people should have the access to the same rights in the United States — paid for, of course, via tax dollars (that everyone pays regardless of, well, anything. Unless they have really good lawyers. Or lobbyists).

Truth be told, I haven’t eaten at one of your restaurants since 1994. That was when I bit into a filet sandwich and found an unsavory hunk of cartilage. Little did I know then that your beliefs were unsavory (to me) as well.

That little bit of gristle saved me from eventual guilt, though, at supporting an organization that does not support all people. Feel free to believe what you believe, support what you support. I’ll be over at Taco Bell, faux beef and all.

Exercising my right to choose,
Beth

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