for my husband - after lots of talk about marriage...

At times, I am so overwhelmed by the beauty of the world that I wish
I could hug God. 

But when I feel like I find nothing but air to embrace, I look to you, my husband
Without whom, my joy feels hollow.
And I thank God for you.
And I thank God that He gave me arms to wrap around you.

And when my arms can not reach,
I thank God that He gave me eyes
to get drunk on your smile.

And if darkness surrounds,
I thank God that He gave me ears to bathe in
the peace of your breath
and the strength of your voice.

And if the distance is too far for sound waves to traverse,
I thank God for my mind and crisp visions of moments lost in each other.

And if my mind fails or is focused on lesser things,
I thank God for my heart where I can feel your love always.

And in doing so, through you, I find Him,
where He was all along,
where He was forever embracing me and
from where
He led me to you.

Through you, and your love, I find Him.

Thank you for loving me.  (hey braky waky)

-m

Why marriage laws still matter.

A few months ago, I was flattered by the responses to my piece about gay marriage.  In this piece, I shared a story about my friend and how I first became passionate about the issue.

Not to turn my nose up at compliments, but some of the feedback I got from this article left me feeling more than a little perplexed.  It seems that people thought that my friendship with someone who was gay changed my mind.  Like, if I am a republican, then clearly I'm predisposed to be 'anti-gay.'

The truth is, I hadn't thought about it one way or another. Other than my penchant for falling in love with guys that played for the other team, I didn't give sexual orientation much thought.  Oh, I know what you're thinking... maybe if I had, I could've saved myself a little heartbreak here and there... Thanks Monday's quarterback, good point.

Anyway, in that piece I wanted to share why I was passionate about the issue and why I did devote a lot of time to thinking about it, and my friend is absolutely to thank for that.  However, being a stubborn conservative, I like to think I wouldn't allow one example, and/or emotional pull to, in any way, dictate how I feel about policies or laws.  Moods can shift, tides can change... I like my coffee black and I like my policy based on logic.

In that piece, I also promised that I had, "logical, legal, and moral reasons that I believe in marriage equality."  

And what better time to express them than in this notte senza il Papa? So, here goes. 

Initially we need to get past the semantics thing.  "Marriage" vs "Civil Union."  If they were legally the exact same thing, would this problem go away? Are people fighting over rights or over vocabulary?  Because fighting over vocabulary makes me want to flick people in the head... but as of now, civil union and marriage mean legally different things so assume from here that I am talking about rights and I'll just choose to use the word 'marriage.'  (If we want to change it so that all people get "civil union licenses/civil unions" from the gov't and then if they so choose, go and get a "marriage" blessed in a church... rock on as far as I'm concerned... so long as civil unions mean the same for gay and straight.)

So, on to the argument.

First, we need to establish that government has a valid interest in legalizing marriage at all.  History seems to debate itself as to why the government got involved in this business to begin with.  There are certainly the contractual and proprietary sides of marriage that need to be regulated and would be chaotic without some sort of oversight by the state.  But, there is also the religious aspect that marriage is what God intended and thus should be the law of the land.  Even in the Bible the covenant of marriage and the women as property thing are pretty intertwined.  

So I'm going to do my best to not get muddled in religious vs. legal... and just concentrate on three reasons why marriage, in general is good for a society and therefore is good for a government to both encourage and regulate. Then, we'll analyze those arguments and see whether there is a logical difference between gay and straight partnerships to see if the government should differentiate.

1)  Marriage creates stability in communities and creates partnerships with greater buying power.  Whether it is cultural or economical, people are more likely to move, switch jobs and rent instead of buy when they are single.  77% of all homeowners are married couples (Forbes.)  In this sense it makes sense for the state to encourage and support both gay and straight marriage as it is the contractual blending of two people and most likely two incomes and not the gender that matters in this statistic and in this improvement to the economy. 

2)  Marriage creates the best environment to raise the next generation.  This will get some hairs raised, I understand, but though there are the amazing single mothers and fathers that are certainly the exception to the rule, both statistics and logic say that kids have a better chance coming from a two parent household.  Children are 82% less likely to live in poverty in a married home (US Census) which, I get, can totally become a chicken v. egg argument.  But it seems that logic would tell us that kids seeing people compromise, work together, and co-exist in a loving relationship is good for their overall well-being.  And, I understand that here, many people would say that kids are best with a "mother and a father."  And ok, I'll see you and raise you a, "kids would be best with the best mother and the best father."  Or, "kids would be best with parents that understand them perfectly and always put them first and have zero mental health issues that they will pass along." or... 

Look, I understand where you are coming from with a 'mom and dad,' thing... really, I do.  But I have three very different children and maybe they'd each do better with people different than my husband and I... How, if they are so very different, could we be the best possible parents for all three?  I know I've relied on stats for my past two examples, but in this one, we simply have not been an open society long enough to have reliable stats one way or another.  All we have is the anecdotal accounts like that of Zach Wahls in front of the Iowa legislature and personal experience to know that two good people in a loving relationship who love their kids... whether gay or straight are going to do their best to be good parents.

The other thing to think about regarding kids is that the gay couple, every time, is going to want that child. Because... they aren't getting pregnant on accident... unless I missed something in my gay reading...  and that alone is a hell of a lot more than we can say for millions or so kids per year that are born and/or conceived and not born.

3)  Marriage controls the spread of disease.  Not romantic... but true and important.  Going back to Biblical stuff... so much of the Leviticus shenanigans that gets pooh poohed is all about disease control... The restrictions on when to eat meat had to do with the fact that animals were generally killed on a certain day... (Sunday I think... so by Friday, the Sabbath, the meat would spoil.)  And not getting tattoos... can you imagine that being a sanitary practice back then?? And the not whoring around in general... let's face it, STD's abound then and now.  God, or a medicine man or someone was hip to it for sure. So staying with one sexual partner was good for the all.  Again, societally this seems a huge pro to encourage for both gay and straight. 

I said I wouldn't get muddled in religious vs. legal but to say that our marriage laws do not have a basis in religion would be to deny history itself.  The above secular reasons, though valid, can not paint the whole picture.  We would be lying if we denied the moral and ethical importance we place on marriage, which I'll touch on now. 

In trying to find a suitable mate, people are often given the advice, "you can't find love until you learn to love yourself."  This, I absolutely believe.  And yet... there is an entire population of people that we, as a society, seem to be telling to deny themselves and, "just find a mate of opposite sex and be normal."  How can we possibly expect anyone to be in any kind of positive relationship when we are telling them that they should not love themselves?  They first must change their very being... make it so that we love you... good, now just go settle down with someone with opposite genitalia please, because that is what actually matters. 

I know, I know this part is less logic, more emotion... I guess I just get wrapped up because I know that if I were gay... you would still love me, you would still think I was a hopeless romantic, you would still probably ask how I got someone to want to marry me (though I'm not sure a lesbian partner would know as much about interior design or flowers as my husband...) and I know you would root for me to get married so that I could have a partner with whom to share my life. 

But I digress.  I do understand the slippery slope issue and I'll be the first one to say that no government (regardless of my opinion) should tell a church, or an organization (like the boy scouts) or a person how to feel or act or govern itself. 

Here, I'm talking solely about law and policy.  Stable relationships with greater buying power and less sexual partners are beneficial both economically and morally for our society.  We have an obligation to encourage the next generation, regardless of their orientation, to be part a productive society instead of implying that by their very nature they are a degradation of it. 

When it comes to religion, because I know the idea can't be avoided forever, I go back, as I often do, to Matthew 22:21 "give to Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God what is God's."  Jesus was giving us not only permission, but orders to live in a society as best we can.  And, both logic and morality seems to tell me that encouraging marriage between two consenting adults is good. 

I'm not going to tell you that Jesus is for gay marriage.  Guess what? I'm not going to tell you He's for straight marriage either since He told his disciples to leave their families and follow Him.  But He did sure seem to have a lot to say about treating other people as we'd like to be treated.   

And I, for one, am glad that I was able to celebrate joyfully finding the love of my life and knowing that we are bound legally... so that if he f*cks up.... "here go Hell come."

thanks for reading, 

-m

50 Shades of White

Wow, I sighed. Biting my lip, I stared at the bed and the enormous mound before me. How did I let this go for so long, I asked myself. 

I stared down at my hands.

“Stop fidgeting.”

I jumped a mile high and snapped to attention... ‘who said that?’

“ROB... ROOOBBB,” I screamed to my husband rushing out the door of my bedroom.

“What?” He sprinted up the steps two at a time. “what’s wrong?”

“I think someone is in our room... I heard someone say like, ‘stop fidgeting,’ or something like that.”

He eyed me, dubious, but went into the bedroom for an extensive search. The closet, the shower, under the bed and out the window, he left no corner unchecked as I snuck closer into the room my feelings shifting from fear, to humility. 

My cheeks flushed. “Sorry honey, I swore I heard something.”

“No problem... what are you working on anyway?” He asked, hopeful. 

“The laundry.” I answered his prayer. “I’m sorry I let it go on so long. I’m done with my book now though and swear I will get this all under control tonight!”

He smiled, “no problem,” he breathed, though I could sense the relief in his voice.  He is so patient with me...

I shut the door behind him and turned the TV on to keep my imagination at bay.  Dance Moms, perfect, I thought. It is just fine as background noise but not interesting enough that it will keep me from concentrating on my project at hand. 

I turned back to the pile on the bed.  “Hmm, it looks even bigger than a second ago,” I mused to myself. 

“That’s what she said.”

I stopped dead in my tracks again and looked around but quickly dismissed it and turned up the television. 

I sighed heavily and tried to let my mind relax to the sound of harpy helicopter moms screeching about their under-appreciated brilliantly twirling daughters as I grabbed a T-Shirt and began folding. 

His folded clothes to the left of the bed, mine to the right, kids in their baskets at my feet and the wrinkled tangled mountain still untouched, dead center.  After about 20 minutes I gave myself a mental break to peek at the hotly debated team routine. The 9 year old got the lead dancing part over the 11 year old even though the 11 year old much better fit the part of a ‘harlot in need’ which happened to be the emotional motivation for the principal dancer in this piece.  Finding it hard to look away at the beauty that was at once a train wreck and an affirmation that I am clearly not the worst mother in the world, I scooted the pile of clothes back an inch and rested one finely sculpted butt cheek on the edge of the bed. 

Something seemed to purr beneath me. I shoved the clothes further over to make sure I wasn’t sitting on a phone or something, but never looked away from the screen. 

A movement in the edge of my periphery vision made my heart stop. I slowly turned to my left and saw that all of the clothes from Rob’s pile had unfolded themselves and shuffled back into the pile. Pinching myself, I stood. My heart leapt to my throat blocking all breath as, one by one, each of the piles of folded clothes became not so. 

And there it was again. Low, wanting, knowing, a voice that conveyed pain and confidence with just two words, “hiyas baby.”

My mouth formed a perfect but silent ‘O’ as I tried to scream for my husband again.  My brain told my feet to stamp, to run, anything, but they stayed resolutely glued in place.

Shifting, sashaying and finally lifting from the fray came the owner of the voice. A white Brooks Brothers 100% Cotton No Iron button down. And it was so white... 50 shades whiter than any shirt I had ever seen.  The way it hung around the air with nothing under it scared me, but excited me... down there.

I instinctively reached my hand out, slowly and retracted it still unable to find my breath, let alone words.

“Its been a rough week for me.” The sleeve reached to the collar, oh the way it reached to the collar. “Over and over, you brought me here, to your bed, only to shove me away to a basket again at nightfall.  Every time your delicate fingers curled around the binding of your Kindle I dreamed they were touching, folding me. You have no idea how sexy you are... do you?”

I bit my lip.  Immediately something flapped against my thigh and said something unintelligible. 

“The underwear says not to bite your lip or they’ll whack you again.”

I took a cautious step back but the shirt’s left sleeve reached out and wrapped itself around my right wrist. 

“Where you think you’re going baby?”

“Hey I just met you. And, this is... crazy.”

“Crazy,” purred the mouthless voice, “or exciting?” 

I bit my lip again.

thwack  “cắn môi của bạn!”

thwack “cắn môi của bạn!”

thwack “cắn môi của bạn!”

“OWWW what the hell is the underwear’s problem? And why are they screaming at me in Chinese?”

SMACK. this time the sleeve’s right cuff slapped me across the cheek leaving a visible scratch from the button. “Stop biting your lip! and,” SMACK this time across the jaw. “it’s Vietnamese you racist, that’s where they were born.”

My hand shot up to my aching face. “RED,” I screamed at him. 

He stopped short.

“That’s right, you bastard, I swear to God I’ll launder you in hot water with something RED if you don’t stop.”

“Then,” he choked, “I’ll probably never see you again.”

“Yes.” I sobbed too. I hoped he would listen to me, this has been the most exhilarating laundry folding 10 minutes of my life. It was already clear I couldn’t live without seeing where he could take me. 

He flushed. I blushed. My eyes widened. “I’m sorry.” I gasped. 

I waited to see if he would forgive me. 

“Hiyas Baby,” He said again, which didn’t totally make sense to me, but I figured it meant he forgave me so I was excited again. down there.

His sleeve caressed my swollen cheek and he ordered some socks to rub my head. My blood sang in my veins. I looked down and saw some khaki shorts and was hurt when there seemed to be no action taken by them. 

My fifty shades whiter eyed me curiously.  Then, like he could read my mind, said, “that’s a common misconception. Pants aren’t alive like you or me.”

I rolled my eyes at my own silliness. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a tie fly toward me, but shirt put himself between us just in time. 

“The ties fucking hate it when you roll your eyes.  Really, they’ll hang you. Don’t do it again.”

Maybe I should have been scared but I was just so excited.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” the voice smelled like ambrosia in my ear.

“jeez.”  I looked him up and down. “umm... “

“tell me,” he begged.

I didn’t know what to say, I was so new to all this but my body was alive in ways I never knew it could be. Blood was rushing in muscles I didn’t know I had.

“Cuff Me” I screamed without knowing what I was saying. 

“what?”

“ummm, with your cuff, I mean... I... ”

His collar was against my neck. I was confused and excited. But I also had no idea what the hell he could actually do for me. 

“TELL ME,” he demanded. His starch got stiffer and he turned about 12 shades less white.

“uuhhh... shirttail me?” I asked, meekly. 

Again, silence.  Fuck, should I have pretended like he was a guy and not a shirt? did I offend him? I bit my lip again and rolled my eyes while gasping and blushing. mistake.

I screamed as ten thousand pieces of clothing rushed me at once. “Mandy,” I heard the voice but it was lost as I was being pushed back onto the bed by millions of determined threads of cotton. 

“MANDY!”

It’s too late, I thought to myself.  I may never see my fifty shades whiter again.

“Mandy,” the voice was clearer. Clothes were being thrown across the room and a face appeared.  Not like a pretend one on a shirt... the actual face of my loving husband. 

“Seriously? What the Hell are you doing?”  He did not look amused... not even darkly amused. 

“ummm laundry?”

“you should seriously see a doctor.” He gave me a final odd look before marching back out of the room. 

The room was quiet except for the bitching dance moms that had turned into bitching pageant moms.

I rolled my eyes and flushed at my overactive imagination, vowing never to read something so base again.

Something moved. I smiled.  Oh, my fifty...

the end?