I have to post something about the fact that my wife Kim and I can now file our taxes jointly. First of all CONFUCKINGGRATULATIONS TO US!!!! Never in this lifetime did I believe I’d see this headline on the front of the New York Times.
Edith Windsor, the 80-something year old woman is like the Rosa Parks of the Gay movement. She finally had enough and refused to sit in the back of the bus. Now, my people of color friends might say, “How can you compare Rosa Parks to Edith Windsor? Rosa went to jail, Edith is smiling on the front of the New York Times.”
But I stick to my analogy. Edith’s face on the front of the New York Times says it all. She represents the years of the LGBT community saying “ENOUGH ALREADY. YOU ARE THE ONES TALKING ABOUT OUR SEX LIVES AS A POLITICAL PLATFORM. WE ARE TALKING ABOUT LOVE.” It reminds me of all those years I marched in the Gay Pride Parade or even more fun than that, the Dyke March (I LOVE the word “dyke”… it’s hot).
We would march by St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and invariably there would be opposers to the Gay movement standing there with signs THAT THEY HAD STAYED UP ALL NIGHT DRAWING of men “sodomizing” other men with a big red circle and a line through it. Like, “This is a NO SODOMIZING zone”. But like I said, they DREW IT. So they had to IMAGINE IT. It was quite funny to me every time I saw it.
My friend Dina sent me a link to this amazing Huffington Post series of pictures. They tell it all. They redefine “photo op”:
Kim and I got married in Toronto on 8/8/08. She bought the tie 15 minutes before the ceremony.
One day in July of 2008, I turned to Kim and said, “8 is a magical number…it represents so many things, including infinity…there will only be one 8/8/08 in our lifetime. We have to get married on that day!” I’m a Pisces. I operate from my gut. It’s the best and worst Piscean trait. As a Pisces, you will either turn out to be an impulsive, drug addicted maniac, or a psychic phenomenon. In my case, I’m both. But Bill W. fixed one of them.
You only need 2 witnesses to get married in Ontario. I am lucky enough to have a gay sister, Janice.
She and her soon-to-be-wife Lael flew to Toronto and were our witnesses. Lael is an amazing photographer and took pictures. My other sister Amy came and brought her husband, our wonderful brother-in-law, Mike, and our two adorable nieces Mikayla and Morgan. Mikayla was the flower girl.
We showed up at City Hall in Toronto and realized that, yes, 8 is a magical number, for me and HUNDREDS OF ASIANS. Two dykes and HUNDREDS OF ASIAN COUPLES DRESSED IN RED, in line to get married.
It was a great day.
In this picture, we were listening to the City Hall official read the marriage vows that we had given him to recite. You will see the big smile on my face and then look at the look on Kim’s face. Whenever we see this picture, we laugh our asses off because that man marrying us had THE WORST BREATH YOU HAVE EVER SMELLED IN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE. I was smiling despite the breath, but Kim just couldn’t. So our memory of this perfect day was tainted with shit breath from a well-meaning justice of the peace.
But when he said, “I now pronounce you spouse and spouse”, all was well in the world and the brides kissed.
