Wednesday, December 15, 2010

ROBBLOG # 192


Today’s column is not the one I was originally posting. I’ll post that another day.

I have something else to get off my mind.
Yesterday, I stopped for Gas at Mayo’s Gas Station there on West Street North. After pumping in 50 bucks worth of gas, I went inside to pay. As I was punching in my debit card numbers, the middle-aged, female attendant said to me:

“Would you like to fill out a ballot and win that lovely gift basket over there for your wife?”
“I turned, looked and said- It’s pretty but I have a husband- not a wife.”

She stared at me briefly.
“Can I fill in a ballot, in hopes that I win it for my husband?”
“Sure!” she gaily replied.
“Gee, I won’t buy him a Christmas Gift until after the draw, just in case I win!”- I blurted.
“Oh, Flowers by June is coming on December 22nd to take the basket and add some fresh fruit to it!”- she quickly added.
“Nice!”- I said smiling. “Have a good day!”
“You too!” I said in the most glorious and uplifting Christmas Tones I could muster. I pushed through the door and out into the cold December day.

“Fuck!” Why do I always have to educate people?”

Most people in Orillia still think that we “Gays” only live in the big cities. I never assume that a man and woman are together when I see a couple out and about- or that a man or a woman, are Straight, Gay, Bisexual, Protestant or Catholic.
Why do other people take it for granted?
Why do I have to correct them?
Why should I even have to hear it?
Do they see my wedding ring and suppose?
I suppose.

Then, last evening I attended an event at a little country church. My Cousin was premiering a DVD he made about the church’s 150 year history and the events over the past 12 months, celebrating the milestone. A committee member of the church had invited me.
I was there to support my cousin too.
There was talk of “faith” by participants in the 62 minute documentary film.
It seemed to me they talked a lot about “faith” actually. It was like they had to keep telling themselves that “faith” was all they had, lest they let their guard down for a moment to really think about this religious stuff and realize it for the “bunch of bunk” it really is.
My opinion only folks. Just Google and learn more or go to the library and read about it and not just the good “book” either.

I didn’t always feel that way.
In my younger years I was a devoted church-goer.
I can’t remember if I ever considered myself a “Christian” though. I think I always associated Christians as being those people who were devoured by a pride of hungry lions on High Holy days in Ancient Rome.
I sure as hell didn’t want that to happen to me.

Looking around that room I saw a group of people who on a daily basis-
Watch television on wide screen TV’s.
Buy Blu-Ray Movies.
Buy 3D Movies.
Talk on Cell Phones.
Fly to Florida on huge aircraft.
Text Message Family and more.

Yet, they worship a very simple time several thousand years ago where a white fellow in a flowing cotton robe- with a dozen men in tow in similar attire, walked around the countryside spouting parables and healing the sick until he was girded with a piece of cloth round his loins and left to die a horrible death pinned to two cross-pieces of wood like a moth in a museum. A picture accentuated by hundred of artists throughout the years.
This is the person- and his Father too of course, that Christians are waiting to see and rub elbows with at a big cocktail party in Heaven.
I mean really. We are waiting for and welcoming death for that one big party because the alternative is burning in the fires of hell everlasting.

But there’s more to the story.
A friend at the gathering introduced me to the Minister Lady and said I was the “Partner” of a friend she works with.
My mouth fell open but I didn’t say a word.
Why?
I usually do.
All I could think of is “some welcoming church this is”.
If it’s so open and welcoming why didn’t my friend tell that United Church Minister:
“This is my friend Rob here and his Husband Tom works with me.”
The issue was skirted.
I felt misrepresented. It was sort of the truth but that 10 diamond ring on my finger says so much more. The marriage licence tucked safely away at the back of my Wedding Photo Album does to.
Why would this friend of any other friend- or family member skirt the issue.
They aren’t the Gay one!
I am.
So, don’t be afraid to say it.
Guilt by association?
Geesh.

Anyway, it bothered me- both the gas station episode and the one at the little church in the wildwood.
I had to tell someone.

Post Script

My friend knows she should have said “Husband”. Apparently a ‘Gay” couple – Book of Leviticus be damned, regularly attaned the church with kids in tow.
Well, I’ll be…

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