Drinks With Doug

Victory and Defeat

Thursday's weather: Sunny this morning, near picture-perfect in the afternoon, with a reddish-grey haze over the sky now in evening. You can stare directly at the sun, though I don't recommend it. 70's, moist, and eerily still - not a leaf moving.
Thursday's drink: a moderate T&T; no need for me to be too tight, especially when that makes me a bad boyfriend.
Thursday's wish: A Day With No News. Perhaps, maybe, someday.

My friend RL phoned me this afternoon from San Francisco. Or Oakland, somewhere in the Bay; whatever. I thought it odd she would be phoning in the early afternoon, no doubt knowing I would be at work. Something bad, I thought; oh dear earthquakeaccidentbabyfalljobearthquakedeathtemblor... Earthquakes and other natural disasters, no surprise, have been very much in the forefront of my thoughts lately. A hazard of my job.

I answered, "B....?", and could tell immediately this was not a bad call. It was, contrarily, a good call. "I just heard, the California State Court ruled that gay marriage is legal! Everyone's talking about it all around me, it's quite the thing. Isn't this great?," she asked. While I was at work.

I should explain. I don't work for an open-minded organization. I don't work for a company that has liberal spousal recognition, or bring your dog to work policies. I don't work for an employer that wants in any way to know I'm gay and happily so. I doubt they ever will - the culture there is just far too insular, set, comfortable with itself and only itself.

This is a problem. A large problem; one that probably hurts me more than I admit and affects me more than I understand. Imagine for a moment: you go to work. Coming in, some of your colleagues are standing around, talking of their vacation. Or holiday, or episode last night while drinking and watching "American Idol" - it doesn't matter. A part of you is immediately on notice: you twitch (imperceptibly so, hopefully) and monitor your words that you don't let something of yourself (your holiday, your vacation, your drunken night in front of the TV) slip. Mostly people are polite: they learn to stop asking after you evade several queries. ("queries", ha!) You're not part of them - you're different. Cool, aloof. Different. Colleagues stop asking things; you stop answering. You're a ghost.

I realize the blog is often over-done. Like a stew with too much going on, or a bad press release with too many editors - too ornate...rococo. But I'm not overstating. In an environment like this - and they are far more numerable than just this oppressive spot described - you're apart and alien from the very well-spring of civics...and civility.

Why do you think I was an in-your-face faggot in the 90s? (Well, not really so much, but perhaps we could say around-your-face fag.) But that's another story. Well...a lot of other people's stories, but that's again, that's something for another time.

So the victory - gay marriage! - was set off by my immediately scurrying to find a 'safe' place to talk on my cell phone. I found myself even censoring what I would say, that someone would overhear and put 2 and 2 together and figure it out. In the tiniest moment of courage I pushed that aside, saying loudly "California here we come!" My victory undercut by the knowledge that I was in a side hallway, out of earshot to most.

Victory and defeat. I'm not sure which won out in my personal little wars today. But mostly I'm heartened by the phone call. Perhaps that there is the victory. Not the ruling, not whatever follows. Not whatever I may say about it. That someone would hear of this and think to immediately pick up the phone and call me. As I think on it, that is (in the parlance) the game-changer.

Tonight I'm feeling quite the victor.