Berkeley in ’08: Protesting and Thai Food

Today was a national day of action protesting the passage Prop. 8 which takes away the right to marry that the court had found gay men and lesbians to possess under the pre-discriminatory, pre-8 constitution of the State of California. (And protesting other discriminatory laws voted in this historic election.)  Everyone I knew was going over to San Francisco (if they didn’t already live there) or going over to Oakland (if they didn’t already live there). Angie, Leo, Charlie and I went to Berkeley. It was a nicely timed action–pre-nap–and nicely placed, right beside the Farmer’s Market where we go most Saturday mornings anyway to buy stone fruit and eat organic Thai food. To my surprise, there were maybe a couple of hundred people there. It was quite impressive. I couldn’t help but wonder where all these people were when Angie and Scott were alone on the overpass before the election trying to get the message out. Angie says (referencing success guru Tony Robbins) that it is easier to pursue someone who has stolen $25,000 dollars from you than it is to work to save $25,000. In other words, people will put enormous effort into recovering something that has been taken away, even when they shirk the same effort that will save it in the first place. Is this true? I’ve certainly known a person or two who was like that when it came to relationships . . . I don’t really know that these people weren’t standing on street corners, making phone calls and donating money before the election. I do know that we feel that we could...

Gay Marriage and Gay Lasagna

Last week, Angie and the boys and I were driving around delivering the lasagnas that Angie had made for various families with wee babes. This is something that had never occurred to us to do prior to having children. We had time to sit in cafes and read Savage Love and Real Astrology, but we did not make and deliver lasagnas. We lived in a world where if you didn’t have the time or energy to cook, you went out to eat. If you didn’t have a lot of money, you could always get a burrito. Now we have the one-year-old (as of tomorrow! Happy Birthday wee Charles!) and the 16-month-old, and damn if we don’t appreciate the food that was brought to us by sundry family and friends, and that, from time to time, my mother will still bring if we order ahead, and that Angie’s mother will cook if we drive up to Sonoma to visit. And we make an effort to welcome new people into their new families with food. It’s a good way to usher people in, and a good way to usher people out. Oh yes, and we delivered cookies, too. The point, however, is that as I drove, Angie read to me from the latest issue of The Atlantic, which had come in the mail just before we left. There is an article by Andrew Sullivan in it called “My Big, Fat, Straight Wedding.” I just had a technological break-through and found the article online, here: http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200809/gay-marriage We got all choked up reading it. Of course, I loved that, intonationally, Andrew Sullivan sounds...