It’s None of your Damned Business!
Okay, while I have no horse in this race, I’m still going to weigh in on the same-sex marriage thing. After all, I’ve been married to my wife for more than 26 years, so I applaud any marriage that has any sex involved!
Seriously, though, I’m struck by a few things in this issue…
Keep in mind, I was raised in the 50s — 60s, when “coming out” was almost never voluntary. More often, it involved surreptitious photos or baseless accusations. If it was ever a popular thing to do, I missed seeing it.
A little story…
By chance, we happened to have a next-door neighbor when I was around 10 years old. His name was Brian, he was in his late 20s or early 30s, and he was the nicest guy you could hope for, as neighbors go. He kept his property up, never threw loud parties, was quick to offer a helping hand to anyone that needed it… everyone liked Brian, kids and adults, alike. He was the only one on the block with a swimming pool in the backyard, and few days went by that a half dozen of us couldn’t be found in his pool, where he taught a lot of us to swim and dive.
Then one day, a couple of police cars showed up, forced open his front door and entered his house, without even bothering to knock. Turned out, that was because they knew exactly where Brian was… he was in the emergency room, having his face put back on and some broken bones taken care of.
Seems Brian had stopped in at one of the local cafes, and someone that thought they knew him called him a faggot. Brian tried to ignore the guy, but he was immediately joined by others, and they got louder and more belligerent. So he just decided to leave before things got ugly. Five of them caught up to him in the parking lot… things got ugly.
He was comatose for several days, half his face was ripped off, his skull was caved in, both hands were smashed, several ribs broken, he had severe internal bleeding, he ended up losing one eye and lost hearing in one ear. The cops had shown up at his house looking for evidence of who might have been behind his attack. That kind of beating only occurred when someone wanted someone else dead. And he came real close to it.
My dad was just one of the neighbors that went by the hospital to visit him after he came out of the coma. Brian readily said that they’d ganged up on him with pipes and jack handles because he was homosexual. He wasn’t surprised by their hate… he’d run into it before. He also wasn’t surprised that of the dozen or so others in the cafe, not one had seen or heard anything. A waitress had finally called the police, reporting a drunk asleep in the parking lot. By then, most of the blood was dried, so he was out there quite a while before she finally called.
Brian spent months in bandages and plaster, and he had several surgeries to make his face a little less scary. He didn’t stick his head outside as often to help someone hook up their trailer or unload their truck, and he stopped inviting the kids to use his pool.
My dad talked to him one day and basically asked him if he planned to spend the rest of his life cooped up with the curtains drawn. My dad said Brian told him he was planning to move as soon as he was able, because he knew that now that “the cat was out of the bag”, people would be more comfortable with him gone. And they certainly weren’t going to allow their kids anywhere near him again.
That’s all I overheard my dad telling my mom that day, but the next afternoon, my dad told me to get my trunks on — everyone was headed over to Brian’s for a surprise party. He didn’t have to say it twice — I was ready in under a minute. I ran out the back door and found a steady stream of people going in Brian’s side gate, loaded with coolers and hot dishes. Over half the neighborhood was there already, and more showed up as the day went on.
After a lot of coaxing, Brian finally came out onto his patio, about as shy and sheepish as anyone I’d ever seen. I heard a couple of fathers tell him that they didn’t give a damn about his tastes, beliefs or political opinions… he’d always been a good neighbor and treated everyone right… that was all that mattered — the rest was none of their concern.
I didn’t understand much of what the fuss was about that day. It seemed to me that everyone had been mad at Brian since he got beaten up and had finally decided he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. I guess that’s a simple way of putting it, but it’s pretty close to the truth. I remember when a month or so later, my dad got put out when another neighbor that needed some help tried to play the guilt card with folks, saying “neighbors have to stick together”. I was there when my dad told him he was full of shit, because he was one of the few that refused to support Brian when he needed it. I think that may have been the first time I ever heard the expression “go piss up a rope”.
Which brings me back to the original point I wanted to make.
My point
What difference should it make to any of us what political stance, religious belief or sexual orientation someone else has? If their politics are too hard for you to swallow, then just seek out other friendships. If you don’t feel comfortable enjoying a ham sandwich in the company of a Jewish colleague, then eat lunch with someone else. Better yet… eat alone!
Who someone else marries shouldn’t make any more difference to you than what their favorite TV program or breakfast cereal is. And more importantly, it’s none of your damned business! If you’re that convinced that you’re right and they’re wrong, I don’t think they’ll be any worse off for your absence.
Guess what, morons… gay isn’t contagious! It isn’t taught, either. If you want to know something that IS taught, try intolerance — racism, sexism and other forms of bigotry. You learned it somewhere, I guarantee! And what’s even worse is that you’re continuing to pass it along.
For being ignorant, you might be forgiven, but for choosing ignorance, don’t hold your breath.
So even without a horse in the race, I’m still pleased to see that at least five Americans were willing to stand up in support of everyone’s right to seek happiness. But I’m more than a little disturbed by the fact that four SCOTUS justices were willing to speak out against that right.
