Nature’s Bachelors Can Now Become Grooms

Marriage equality has arrived in Arizona. I honestly thought I would not live to see the day.

By any objective standard this should be cause for celebration. I am one of nature’s bachelors (maybe I need to start using a new term for that) and I’m in a long-term, committed relationship so this change in the legal environment affects me directly. I wish I felt more celebratory.

I’m not usually a pessimist but I wish I felt like this was a war won and not just another battle on the road to the next battle. The Arizona Attorney General announced he would not appeal the court’s ruling because he saw no chance of success at the appellate level or with SCOTUS. Governor Brewer followed up immediately with an announcement;

“Now, with their rulings, the federal courts have again thwarted the will of the people and further eroded the authority of states to regulate and uphold our laws,” Brewer’s statement said. “It is not only disappointing, but also deeply troubling, that unelected federal judges can dictate the laws of individual states, create rights based on their personal policy preferences and supplant the will of the people in an area traditionally left to the states for more than two hundred years.”

What I found most impressive about her comment was that I did not see movement in the lips of any of the Tea-stremists while sound appeared to be coming out of Gov. Jan’s mouth. I think Governor-wannabe Doug Ducey was even drinking a glass of water at the time.

Of course I still live in a state where I can be fired for being gay, denied housing for being gay, and any business can refuse service to my kind. The right to marry is important but it’s still not equality under the law. And let’s not forget how these marriage bans came into existence. Arizona legislators passed same-sex marriage bans in 1975 and 1996. In 2008 the voters enshrined this form of discrimination in the State constitution. The vote count was 56% for the ban and 44% against. I’ll try to take comfort in the knowledge that only 56% of my neighbors hate me.

Nationally, foes of marriage equality vow to fight on. They point out that SCOTUS has reversed itself before on issues of civil rights and could do so again. This is especially true in this case since SCOTUS never ruled. With the end of Justice Ginsberg’s tenure in sight, there is a school of thought that says SCOTUS declined to hear the appeals because Scalia, Thomas, et al knew they didn’t have the votes. There will be ways to get the issue before the court again once  Cruz, Palin, Perry, Paul , or whichever psycho-nightmare-from-Hell becomes president in 2016 and has the opportunity to appoint a replacement or two. I’d love to believe SCOTUS would never reverse itself in a way that would curtail the rights of citizens. Then I remember the Roberts Court is the one that gutted the Voting Rights Act.

In  the meantime, there will continue to be hate-speech all over the internet and Tea-vangelicals will still claim that bullying is a protected expression of their faith.

Makin’ Jerky

For some reason known only to Harper’s Other Dad, the arrival of autumn turns a young (ahem) man’s fancy to beef jerky. A couple of years ago he discovered a website and podcast called The Art of Manliness. I’m not a fan of the podcast but the site is interesting. Where else can one find discussions of the ‘lessons in manliness found in The Hobbit’, ‘how to pick out aviator sunglasses’, or ‘how to shave with a straight razor’. All I knew about straight razors before reading that article was that “Bad Bad Leroy Brown” kept one in his shoe. In November of 2012 they posted an article called “How to Make the Best Beef Jerky in the World“. Harper’s Other Dad likes the stuff and I have more time to make than he does so……

I’m somewhat challenged in this jerky-making endeavor because we don’t own a dehydrator. Hah! What care I for modern conveniences and specialized equipment! This is Arizona, a land of rugged independence. It’s cowboy country. I’ll make it the way the early white European invaders settlers did. So I  got in my covered Honda Accord and set out on the arduous and perilous quest for beef. After fighting my way past hostile Indian casinos and through the ravages of expressway interchanges clogged with predatory snow birds, I survived to capture a 5-pound brisket at Costco. That’s when the real work begins.

I sliced the raw meat as thinly as one can with what passes for a sharp knife in Casa de Harper’s kitchen. For those who have not experienced cutting a 5-pound slab of bloody, raw meat into thin strips, be warned. It is not quite as much fun as it sounds like it would be. I made the marinade of spices and many liquids, all of them brown, and then steeped the meat in it for 24 hours; in the refrigerator, of course, as we are pioneers.

After the marinating period had passed, and continuing in the spirit of frontier manliness, I preheated the oven for 175*F and let the strips of meat dry in it for 5-6 hours. The recipe calls for a 160*F oven but the only setting below 175*F on my oven is “Off”. What can I saw? Life can be tough for pioneers on the wild west side of 45th Street and we have to make do. At the end of the process, all the moisture, and the bacteria therein, has fled the meat strips and they are ready to gnaw on enjoy.

After that there is only one step remaining. Harkening back to those thrilling days of yesteryear, while whistling “Do Not Forsake Me, Oh My Darling“, I start the self-cleaning cycle on the oven…just like Laura Engels Wilder must have done.

I’m still not entirely sure I understand the connection between making beef jerky and manliness. Maybe it’s like a phobia or a fetish; one can empathize but if you don’t feel it, you don’t really get it.

“Makes The Perfect Gift!”

For years I’ve seen advertisements on cable channels or, back when dirt was new and dinosaurs roamed the earth, UHF television stations, that would end with the phrase; “It makes the perfect gift!”. I’ve long since forgotten what product was being touted in these ads but the phrase stuck in my mind. Over the years it has come to epitomize the marketing of products I might only briefly consider buying if I had all the money in the world, and was drunk-shopping 2:00 AM with the remote in one hand and my VISA card in the other. If the question ever comes to mind; “Why on earth would anyone buy that?“, the appropriate response is; “It makes the perfect gift!”

This morning I opened my email to find an advertisement from Hammacher Schlemmer. To be clear, I think HS is a fine retailer. Their motto is “Offering the Best, the Only, and the Unexpected for 166 years” and I believe that’s true. I have purchased things from them in the past and, I’m sure, I will again. This morning’s ad, however, struck me as simultaneously very funny and a little unsettling, The Home Lie Detector.

I’m not likely to be giving the ‘third degree’ to teenagers about curfew violations anytime soon but this might be handy to have around the house. Think of the conversations I could have with Harper’s Other Dad. He’s a good sport and a trusting soul so it wouldn’t occur to him wonder why I might be slipping sensors on his fingers.

What did you do today?
Do these jeans make me look fat?
What did you really think of Barbra’s new duets album?

Graphic evidence of his veracity or mendacity will be immediately on display.

Of course, turnabout is fair play. I might have to slip on the sensors at some point as well. Luckily I’ve seen many episodes of Law & Order and I recently re-read Garnet’s 1595 Treatise of Equivocation so I know all I need to know to beat the machine. Next time I’m asked; “Should I start using ‘Just For Men’ on my beard again”? I can say; “of course not!”, with a clear conscience and a neutral galvanic skin response. All I need to do is focus on the unspoken thought bubble; “as long as ‘Kenny Rogers plays Santa Claus’ is the look you’re going for”.

The holiday gift-giving season is upon us. Gift wrap is only $6.95 extra. Where’s that credit card?

 

 

 

 

 

Preaching to the Choir – National Coming Out Day

I wrote the post linked below for National Coming Out Day in 2012. I wish I had some deeper insight on the subject than I did two years ago. I don’t. I wish I’d developed the skill to express myself more articulately so people who have not shared the experience might understand it better. I haven’t. Perhaps ‘coming out’ stories are meant to be exercises in ‘preaching to the choir’. National Coming Out Day is when people who already understand share with each other and celebrate how far we’ve come. Telling our stories is about empowering the storyteller, not changing the hearts and minds of those who might hear us.

Some things have changed since 2012. The move toward marriage equality seems to be achieving some kind of critical mass. That should be cause for celebration. But that same critical mass arriving, as it has, on the eve of the upcoming mid-term elections means the voices of hatred have never been louder. Not a day goes by when I am not confronted in the media by rhetoric of the most profound ugliness aimed directly at me and many of the people I care about.

That said, and with proper shout out to Sophie Tucker, ‘I’ve been ‘out’ and I’ve been closeted. Out is better.’ Yes, the escalation of hatred in this country frightens me. I’m frightened by what is going on in Russian and Uganda.  It disturbs me that supposedly responsible political leaders in this country feel so comfortable voicing their support for what is happening in those countries. I’d have thought reasonable people with sincerely held conservative beliefs would be embarrassed by their thought-leaders expressing such wholehearted devotion to the moral descendants of Joseph Stalin and Idi Amin. Sadly, I’d be wrong.

People who lack understanding and empathy will not change their minds because of National Coming Out Day. Light will not penetrate their closed minds any more than it could penetrate the closet door. So it is just like the other 364 days of the year. I can live with that. There will always be reasons for fear. But being closeted does not just mean being afraid. It means being afraid and alone in a dark place. There is no way that’s better.

Why Can’t Those People Just Keep It To Themselves?

Milestones In The Popular Culture

In unrelated conversations this week, I became aware that two milestones of popular culture, at least as I’ve experienced it, have recently had their 50th anniversaries. Both are important in my life, albeit in very different ways. And the juxtaposition is intriguing. What does it tell us about the cultural landscape of the 1960’s that both of these creations came to fruition at about the same time? As one of my German professors was fond of saying; “Hier finden wir Geistesgeschichte”….’this is intellectual history’.

Dale Wasserman’s stage adaptation of Ken Kesey’s 1962 novel, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, premiered in New York during the 1963 – 1964 season. A decade or so later, in Racine Wisconsin, it became the first ‘community theater’ production I ever saw. I don’t recall what I thought of the production but seeing it was the first time I connected to the notion that one could experience theater without traveling to a big city. That led me to join the audiences for college productions, local professional theaters, and eventually to New York and Chicago and Seattle and San Francisco and Miami and Phoenix and…..

I went to see that production of “… Cuckoo’s Nest” because my, then, brother-in-law was playing McMurphy. Also, having read the novel, I was familiar with the story. When I was in high school everyone had to read Cuckoo’s Nest. When I say ‘had to read‘, I don’t mean it was part of the curriculum. I mean it was cool and oh-so daring. It was among a short list of controversial novels that were popular at the time. Being seen carrying one of them conferred instant intellectual “cred”. That list also included Hesse’s Siddhartha, Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye and Pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49. Kurt Vonnegut books might be included as well but he was a wild card. Anyone reading Slaughterhouse 5 could hang with the Cuckoo’s Nest folk but someone reading Cat’s Cradle could just as easily be a part of that whole Lord of the Rings crowd. Every ‘us’ must have a ‘them’.

 

I learned of the other milestone by listening to NPR’s Pop Culture Happy Hour podcast. 2014 marks the 50th anniversary of Gilligan’s Island. I don’t remember whether we watched the show in its original network run but I certainly grew up seeing it in syndication. By any objective standard the show is mediocre, at best. Yet if anything deserves to be called iconic in this context it is Gilligan’s Island. I’m sure it has been a couple of decades since I last saw an episode but I still know all the words to the theme song. When traveling, the phrase ‘three-hour tour’ conjures an image immediately. At breakfast this morning, Harper’s Other Dad referred to the hair style in an old family photo with the comment; “she looks like Mary Ann”. There was no need to ask; “Mary Ann who?”.

Listening to Pop Culture Happy Hour has made me fan of NPR writer Glen Wheldon. Actually, I’d call it a ‘man crush‘ but I’m not sure that term applies when both men are among the ranks of nature’s bachelors.  In any event, I can always count on Wheldon to say exactly what I’m thinking, only more articulately and with greater wit. In talking about Gilligan’s Island he noted that, for many children, Gilligan’s Island was their first exposure to both Shakespeare’s Hamlet, and the music of Bizet’s opera Carmen. It was as if he were reading my mind.

In one episode, for whatever contrived reason, the castaways mounted a musical version of Hamlet. Because that’s what you do when you’re shipwrecked on an island. I’d forgotten Gilligan, as Hamlet, singing the musical soliloquy ‘To Be or Not To Be” but my memory of the Skipper’s “Neither a Borrower nor a Lender Be…” is crystal clear. I still know the words. More significantly, in the intervening years I have seen both Hamlet and Carmen several times. Both are great works or artistic expression. I don’t think I’ve ever left a production of Hamlet without a Bizet ear worm. And I’m absolutely certain I’ve never gotten through Act II of Carmen, without picturing Alan Hale, Jr…. as the Skipper…. as Polonius.

 

AIDSWalk Phoenix – 2014

Harper will be participating in AIDSWalk – Phoenix again this year.

Last year, readers may recall, she came in Second Place for fundraising in the “Paws For the Cause” division. This year she’s Going For The Gold!

And this year she will bringing a posse. In addition to both her dads, local ‘uncles’ Neal & George will be there again this year. Also, making special guest appearances, Cubby & Nate are jetting out of the blogosphere, and across the country, to join the fun.

Harper’s Other Dad will be making one of his world-famous “Spo Shirts” for whomever donates the most money. Details will be coming soon on Spo Reflections.

Harper understands that resources are limited and there are many worthy causes but, if you’d like to sponsor her in her effort to ‘Go For The Gold’ this year, please click on her “Sponsor Harper” photo either here or on Spo Reflections. You’ll be whisked to her donation page through the wonders of modern technology. Donations from either blog count toward the ‘Spo Shirt’ totals.

Thank you.