Same-sex equality: From dongs to ding-dong-dings


OK, so this is it. This is the day I'm finally equal. No longer a "second class citizen" -- in California at least, the third biggest state with the largest population in the good ol' US of Gay. Today at 5pm, two precious octagenarian lesbians will legally tie the knot at San Francisco City Hall, and tomorrow I'll have access to the last state right denied to me on the basis of which side I butter my queer toast. Weird.

Will I suddenly walk taller? Will my shoulders expand and my chest inflate? Will I finally fall prey to all that Sex and the City hoo-ha and watch my moods swing from Blahnik pump to Wang gown with every hysterical cosmo and Cosmo I down? Or will I become the stereotypical male role model -- unable to commit to an ice cream flavor or credit card company, let alone matrimony.

Gurl, we already had Sex and the City in the '40s. From

Maybe worse, as someone whose queer identity was partly formed by saying "who cares" to marriage, because there's more pressing problems confronting the community -- now that that stance is officially a personal rather than a political statement, what will happen to my politics? "Who cares."

Mostly, and oddly, though, I found myself waking up this morning itching for a fight.

I'm ecstatic for the 650 couples or so who've already registered to get married. But I also almost want someone to cross me today, just so I can snap, "Listen, bitch. I'm your little gay plaything no longer. I'm equal now and you can't treat me as your funny pet any more than I can think you're legally better than me and let you do it." I guess that's the remnants of the fighting spirit?

Sure we've got a horrid ballot fight in November, and 48 more states to change, and then an entire country, and then most of the world. And that's not even talking about all the homophobia in general. But it'll be fascinating to see how this changes queer culture -- whether it hurts it (as a person in this sort of goofy NYT article says) or helps it, whatever either of those means.

Last night, inspired by the first couple, Phyllis Lyon and Del Martin, my bf Hunky Beau and I went on a little cyberjourney down LGBT history lane. We argued over the exact way to pronounce "Daughters of Bilitis" and gasped at the amazing treasure trove that is We scolded ourselves for not knowing who the incredible Knights of the Clock were and blushed with a kind of rage at the twisted leanings of Gemeinschaft der Eigenen.

Later we passed out in bed. (Hey, talking about my sex life is no longer a political statement either!)

Not mentioned: wedding plans.

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