tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78177823427212341832024-03-05T02:23:34.773-05:00Jesus has Two Daddies2 kids, 2 dads in the birthplace of the Republican Party!
You know this is going to be interesting!Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.comBlogger330125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-5576529775490099582016-06-13T08:31:00.002-04:002016-06-13T08:31:51.931-04:00An aging club kid speaks. A requiem for Orlando. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_Toc361321293"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_Toc361320941"></a>I added this as a chapter to my book after
watching the film<a href="http://www.maestro-documentary.com/" target="_blank"> “Maestro” </a>on IFC. The clubs of my youth gave me sanctuary and
respite from life. They were my social hub and a place to be me and live my
life in a society that wasn’t quite as open as it is now. My heart breaks for
all those killed this past weekend in Orlando. They were trying to find solace,
find a friend, find a date, or just fucking dance, but it all ended so
horribly. In our post-Obergefell world, we thought we had it all wrapped up and
we could go about our lives. </div>
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were wrong. Very wrong. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Observation: An Aging Club Kid Speaks (September 2011)
excerpt from “Jesus has two Daddies” <o:p></o:p></div>
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I often get laughed at by my students for my musical choices
in the classroom/studio. I won’t lie; it was a tough time growing up musically.
I grew up at the end of Led Zeppelin and the beginning of Abba. My choices were
limited for sure. But music was a huge part of my growing up. I loved Elton
John and some of the musicals my parents had on vinyl. I remember coming home
from camp in 6th grade, and my parents had bought A Night at the Opera by
Queen, and it blew my little 12-year-old-head. Apparently they needed a rock
and roll soundtrack for the bacchanal they had while I was away at camp. <o:p></o:p></div>
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My early years as a young gay male and the world of music
that opened up to me in the clubs, bars, and discos in Toledo had a lasting
effect on my musical tastes as an adult. If I wasn’t sneaking in to the gay
clubs and dancing to late disco or early house, I was at the straight clubs
shaking it to the grinding funk and R&B that populated the playlists at
such bars like Renee’s, one of the true discos left standing after the 70s.
They tried to update the place with new lights and décor, but it was what it
was, an old disco tucked in a shopping mall.
It didn’t last long into the 80s. I had older gay friends who tried to
turn me on to the various musical genres taking hold, an array of music that
still has a place on my iPod today. Cutting-edge groups like Kraftwerk and
divas such as Sylvester and Grace Jones still rock my world. But as the 80s
closed up and we moved on into the 90s, club culture was still booming. Bars
were a place of refuge for my friends and me, both gay and straight. They were
places where we could go and get away from it all. Sure, we had the disco
anthem I am what I am (by Gloria Gaynor if you didn’t know) to help us feel
good about ourselves, but it was no Born this Way. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Many of my current students go to the Necto in Ann Arbor, MI
another grey lady from the disco era who has managed to survive into this new
century. Of course, we knew it as the Nectarine Ballroom back then. It was a
spacious and opulent place where the music was amazing and every night, gay or
straight, was fabulous. Money was saved up each week for the nights out in
Michigan. If we drove fast, we could close the Nectarine at 2:00 a.m. and drive
back to Ohio to close out Buttons or Bretz and continue partying until 4 or 5
am. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I caught the documentary “Maestro” on IFC, and the film has
been floating around in my head since I watched it. I have watched the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWpAYtmsqqM" target="_blank">opening credits</a> many times, as the narration over the thumping house beats brought back
many memories for me. As the credits roll, a voice begins to speak:<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I want to tell you about walking into an oasis.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Feeling like I just walked into my family’s living
room...it was about being safe from the social restrictions of the outside.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Everything the Moral Majority told you couldn’t do, it
didn’t exist anymore. It was a family that had only one rule, to love thy
brother, and that was okay. It was you and them against the world, and we
survived together.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I get goose bumps as I read these words because that is how
I felt about going out to the bars and clubs in my early 20s. It was freedom
from a world of AIDS and HIV and from the crap going on in my head as a young
man who knew he was gay but didn’t know how he fit into the world. The last
line says that we survived together, but in reality, we didn’t. I lost so many
friends from this time that it breaks my heart to think about them and their
lives, cut down so quickly. My nights of going out and clubbing are pretty much
over now. It’s a totally different experience to dance with a kid in your
family room to the Wii and not be in a club. The smell of pot and poppers are
replaced with the smell of juice boxes and a not so fresh diaper. I can still
crank out Lady Gaga with the kids and on cue they both raise their hands in the
back of my car as Mother Monster commands them to “put their paws up!” And I can still put on my headphones, grab my
dog, and go out for a walk in the park jamming to the tunes that made me who I
am today. The strobes are gone, but the memories remain.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Dance on my brothers and sisters. Dance on. </div>
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-85530155688326416972016-05-23T15:22:00.000-04:002016-05-23T15:22:44.566-04:00Life beyond the bubble.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClaMSKa5NO6b1SLR_E6a4c2PocuWPzxUnj-_Z4xMTWgIn1TfybXrqk3LRPfQ9vT1ioM71ASlo8asSri0PO8cxq0Gv5x1dIFGT8gTwro47r7rcRfrOwn1AAOlnVB5vI8TwhvESOZsh9Uo/s1600/MDOC+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClaMSKa5NO6b1SLR_E6a4c2PocuWPzxUnj-_Z4xMTWgIn1TfybXrqk3LRPfQ9vT1ioM71ASlo8asSri0PO8cxq0Gv5x1dIFGT8gTwro47r7rcRfrOwn1AAOlnVB5vI8TwhvESOZsh9Uo/s320/MDOC+1.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo: J Scott Park, M Live</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><i>What follows is a selection from my talk at the annual <a href="http://www.landconference.org/index.html" target="_blank">LAND Conference</a> this past February in Grand Rapids. It is the genesis of my new book, "Life beyond the Bubble" a collection of stories from my years teaching at the prison. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The college
where I teach, Jackson College, has a long and storied history with prison
education. The stories from the academic campfire tell of buses full of dogs
and guards showing up at 1 am to secure the buildings for the classes. The
faculty were brought in shortly thereafter and secured in their classrooms at
that ungodly hour of the morning. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">For me, my
CPAP and I are singing the songs of my people at 1:30 a.m., but these hardcore
faculty apparently main-lined Red Bull and were ready to greet the buses full
of prison students lining up along the college each morning. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Flash
forward several decades, and we are once again back in the business of teaching
the incarcerated. It was a big decision for me to do this. My husband I have
two young kids and I have seen Oz on HBO. (fun fact: I dated the brother of the
show’s creator in college). I also have two strikes against me, I’m gay and a
teacher. Things didn’t work out so well for either of those demographics on the
show if you recall. But seeing that I had been judged pretty much all my life
as a gay man, I talked with my spouse, double-checked my life insurance and
threw my hat into the ring to teach art history. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Due to the
nature of the corrections environment, very little personal information is
shared, in the classroom, or even with the Correction Officers (COs) and staff.
A designation of “over-familiarity” can end up with the prisoner being
transferred out of the facility. So in my prison classes, my sexuality is off
the table, whereas on main campus, I am out and proud and don’t hide who I am.
Each week when I enter “the Bubble” that space between freedom and
incarceration, I also step back into the closet and hide who I am as a gay man. </span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">With that in mind, I had to ask myself why I wanted to teach
at the prison. Why would I risk my life and well-being to teach those that
might not ever step foot outside the perimeter of the prison again? </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">They find solace in the artwork and the stories of its creation and creators. One
gentleman remarked that he’ll never leave the facility as a free man, but
through my classes, he traveled the world and saw things he could never
imagine.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Last winter here
in Michigan was one of the coldest on record with many days in single digit and
below zero readings thanks to the Polar Vortex. As I walked with my CO escort
to my classroom inside the prison to teach my art history class one day last
winter, I remarked how quiet the prison yard was, even with the wind howling in
our ears. </span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">The yard is
typically filled with prisoners and guards, walking, lifting weights, playing
soccer or just sitting, but today, with the temps in the single digits, it was
a barren tundra. The garden that I watched grow and bloom the previous summer
was mowed down flat, buried in a snowy blanket of white.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">“Yeah, said
the guard, we have to keep the inmates in when it’s this cold. These fucking
animals don’t know when to come in out of the cold.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">I was
stunned by his description of the prisoners but held my tongue. We continued across
the yard and arrived at the modular classroom set up next to the soccer field. As
he fumbled for the key to unlock the classroom he muttered under his breath, “I
don’t know why you’re teaching these assholes. They don’t learn, they don’t
listen, they’re just fucking animals, plain and simple. They need to be in
cages, not classrooms.”</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Photo: J Scott Park, M Live</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">I have
learned that you only engage in pleasantries while in the prison, anything
deeper than “nice day, eh?” can lead to much more than you’ll ever want to hear
(from both sides of the prison wall). I thanked the CO and began to set up my
classroom as I do each session. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">The students
are excited and motivated to learn, even if it’s something they know nothing
about or will probably never use while incarcerated. I have had many “lifers”
as students, men who will never see the outside of the prison due to their
crimes. I was initially worried about reaching this group as I wondered what
was left for them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">Why learn?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">Why care?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">Why do
anything if you know it’s hopeless.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">But it’s not
hopeless and the lifers are prime examples of this. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">One of the
men remarked that he couldn’t wait for his release as he wanted to go back to
Art Prize (in Grand Rapids, MI) and finally be able to talk about the art and
not feel stupid. One of the men, a gifted artist, eagerly shared with me his
work and humbly asked for my opinion as to what pieces he should consider
submitting for the annual University of Michigan Prisoner Art Show. His artwork
was exquisite and showed maturity and mastery and I was thrilled to offer him
my critique. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So why do I
teach these fucking animals each week? It’s easy, they’re not animals, they’re
humans and they’ve made bad choices in life, we all have. They’re doing their
penance, and they’re making better choices than what landed them behind bars. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It’s not
easy work, teaching never is, but its rewards are often more than you can ever
imagine. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0Jackson, MI, USA42.245869 -84.40134619999997842.1518205 -84.562707699999976 42.3399175 -84.23998469999998tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-65469963966976838722016-05-23T08:28:00.001-04:002016-05-23T08:28:35.668-04:00Contact Information<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnRZQg4zKIClH6vEct1ERqeFfDZeZe0djKicedhedPbPzRtmDRbgilELIUSKn_cuusZhQkDYLn5NEI_n_fOllvmOIssNIvmEZ_0eM_v1CuUUC9WYu7eZXdt8jJYNX6cOrELw8u7GkEGlo/s1600/10456429_10152336734163842_1099244320269216231_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnRZQg4zKIClH6vEct1ERqeFfDZeZe0djKicedhedPbPzRtmDRbgilELIUSKn_cuusZhQkDYLn5NEI_n_fOllvmOIssNIvmEZ_0eM_v1CuUUC9WYu7eZXdt8jJYNX6cOrELw8u7GkEGlo/s320/10456429_10152336734163842_1099244320269216231_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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If you are looking for information on my book and how to
purchase it, please follow this link:</div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Jesus-Has-Daddies-Thomas-McMillen-Oakley-ebook/dp/B00E4UD1TE?ie=UTF8&btkr=1&redirect=true&ref_=dp-kindle-redirect">https://www.amazon.com/Jesus-Has-Daddies-Thomas-McMillen-Oakley-ebook/dp/B00E4UD1TE?ie=UTF8&btkr=1&redirect=true&ref_=dp-kindle-redirect</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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There are several options for you to explore, including new,
used, and Ebooks. <o:p></o:p></div>
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If you are in Jackson County and have a Jackson District
Library account, you can borrow my book here: <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://jacks.ent.sirsi.net/client/en_US/default/search/results/?qu=jesus+has+two+daddies">http://jacks.ent.sirsi.net/client/en_US/default/search/results/?qu=jesus+has+two+daddies</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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If you are looking for my artwork and my work as an
educator, please log on to: <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://reddragonstudio.blogspot.com/">http://reddragonstudio.blogspot.com/</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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I am also on Twitter and Instagram as McMillenoakleyt<o:p></o:p></div>
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Thanks for your interest and support. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-64440701572608338872015-09-12T13:42:00.002-04:002015-09-12T13:42:49.617-04:00So long, farewell. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I first started my blog in 2009, we were a small family
of three. Legally married in California but not here in Michigan. I started
jotting down the moments in our lives that helped the folks that didn’t know us
understand a little bit more of who we are and what we stood for. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have always been very passionate about LGBT rights and the
inequalities that we face daily. But I was especially cognizant of these issues
as I knew they might have an effect on our daughter (Eli was not yet in the
picture). I also began my book, a “how to” manual of sorts of guys wanting to
start a family via adoption. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The blog, at the time, was a nice sounding board for
potential stories to include in the book, as well as a place to share ideas and
get feedback. I made a few dollars off of the site via Google, but in all
actuality, I wasn’t in it to make money, I was in it to share. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But in the past three months, we’ve made significant strides
in the world of LGBT rights. We still have a long way to go that’s for sure.
But the coda for our story came yesterday as I was finally able to legally
adopt Eli, almost 6 years after his placement with us. Our journey isn’t over,
but right now, we’re going to take a breath and refresh ourselves. We’re going
to step away from being the poster children for Marriage Equality here in
Michigan and we’re going to focus on being a family. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tod and I sat in our hot tub last night, talking about the
exciting day we had and this subject came up. Tod posted this on his Facebook
page, and it sums up what I am trying to say: <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Last night Tom and I had a very surreal conversation one
I never thought we would have. We can breathe, we don't have to keep fighting,
we are married, we are both legal parents to both of our children, and it is
true "All you need is love, but a Supreme Court ruling doesn't hurt!</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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So for now, I’m suspending this blog (like Rick Perry’s
presidential campaign) and we’ll revisit it when the time comes or events warrant
it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s been a crazy long trip, and it is far from over. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We’re thankful that we have had you along for the ride. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-60056802660889776002015-07-28T09:08:00.000-04:002015-07-28T09:08:48.956-04:00Meeting our Dadelgängers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRisERar9nMNX6DRuS0vl2uR7d7YiR6TIdpCqLyQvrsmLecYZyntw68pBTPlpdQ4Q3kZlfCZsKwFaxsbn1qz6KbK0cMLsGbKuW4ZYI1XZgWLqFYVBykoqSlK-mlE20Ysl9eouckVevJzM/s1600/HighResCOVERUSE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRisERar9nMNX6DRuS0vl2uR7d7YiR6TIdpCqLyQvrsmLecYZyntw68pBTPlpdQ4Q3kZlfCZsKwFaxsbn1qz6KbK0cMLsGbKuW4ZYI1XZgWLqFYVBykoqSlK-mlE20Ysl9eouckVevJzM/s320/HighResCOVERUSE.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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I was contacted by Sean to write a review for his upcoming
book “Which one of you is the Mother” the other day, and after reading the
hilarious and moving book, I realized we had finally met our dadelgängers in
Sean and Todd. Seriously. We have yet to meet these two, but I found myself
looking over my shoulder for surveillance cameras as I read about their
exploits and adventures with their two boys. </div>
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This is the review I wrote for the
book: <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Sean Michael O’Donnell and his husband Todd gave up their
lives of endless clubbing, leather chaps, and glow sticks to become parents.
The party bus is now a minivan, the chaps have been replaced by #dadbod
appropriate jeans and t-shirts and the endless clubbing is now an endless quest
for a clean house and a decent night’s sleep. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>I don't like to think of us as boring, just profoundly
unremarkable…, writes O’Donnell in the first chapter, but I beg to differ.
Their story of starting their relationship to adopting their children is
remarkable, considering all they had to go through as a gay male couple. Their
story is one for anyone, a story of true love, commitment and what it means to
be a family in the US in 2015. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Upon reading “Which one of you is the Mother?” I realized
that my husband Tod and have our own dadelgängers in Sean and his husband Todd.
There may be one less D, but their story is remarkably similar to our journey
to parenthood. We’re just older and have cuter kids. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>O’Donnell is a natural story teller who puts the reader
front and center in their daily lives. It’s a story of hope, a story of
compassion, and a story for anyone who has ever wondered what those Club Kids
from the nineties are up to these days. </i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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A synopsis of the book here: <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>After fifteen years of up-all-night gay disco dance parties,
Sean O'Donnell and his longtime partner Todd decided to trade in their leather
chaps for mom jeans and start a family. In August 2012 the not-so ambiguously
gay duo walked into a Pittsburgh-based adoption agency and said, "We'd
like a child, please." For the next several months they attended parenting
classes, subjected themselves to probing FBI background checks, and completed
enough paperwork to reforest the whole of the Amazon River basin. Despite
lacking a magical baby-making vagina the pair successfully made omelets without
eggs when in July 2013 they flew to Oregon to meet their seven-year-old son for
the first time. No longer Sean and Todd they would now be forever known as Dad
and Papa to the observant boy ("So that's how you sleep.") with a
million questions (“Do you have a girlfriend?”, “Where do babies come from?”,
“What’s gay?”) No sooner had they settled into their new roles when the stork
returned the following year, delivering another boy who quickly proved that
five-year-olds were basically talking babies who could use the toilet. Which
One of You is the Mother? is the story of how two gay guys finally met the two
kids who were always meant to be their sons. This is a book that celebrates a
different kind of family who just happens to be like every other family on the
block. Only gayer. And funnier. </i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p> </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGFPHYdyjLqdNWHqm7DfxtcWxltE4KgRCc2J6aoZ0WGmSovDV-ZK3Dme_mnvcTaa8f7i3aXpguXs9nEnYPoIoekiF5hR_fPyWY3ASuX8e1gc03NfVYScMu4VccbthLYHb9VTGt5x0BCc/s1600/1909271_10207150295424520_3497138361730426844_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGFPHYdyjLqdNWHqm7DfxtcWxltE4KgRCc2J6aoZ0WGmSovDV-ZK3Dme_mnvcTaa8f7i3aXpguXs9nEnYPoIoekiF5hR_fPyWY3ASuX8e1gc03NfVYScMu4VccbthLYHb9VTGt5x0BCc/s320/1909271_10207150295424520_3497138361730426844_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sean and Todd and their boys. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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You can follow media-whore Sean here: <a href="http://seansbiggayblog.com/">http://seansbiggayblog.com/</a> </div>
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here: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/seansbiggayblog">https://www.facebook.com/seansbiggayblog</a> </div>
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and here: <a href="https://twitter.com/seansbiggayblog">https://twitter.com/seansbiggayblog</a> </div>
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I’d give you his phone number, but he didn’t share that with me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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And yeah, his Amazon page is here: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sean-Michael-ODonnell/e/B0127GQY40">http://www.amazon.com/Sean-Michael-ODonnell/e/B0127GQY40</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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After you buy my book, scrape together some change and buy
his. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-46106302724220465712015-06-29T13:31:00.002-04:002015-06-29T17:27:15.255-04:00Musings on Marriage Equality from a Straight Ally<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYn64zXLDmteT_LhRhATMSq-J81pxiIxQfvPwed3Av0Oy53dxjacx3VzWMJkEyubFNXvY6YuOyroLmIqGUI07EVhpN_bxj2A5ML1w7qQxFwS1YrpaSGOCOw3BsZildXfEP99KouyDQUI4/s1600/337244_10151358460207931_277633657_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYn64zXLDmteT_LhRhATMSq-J81pxiIxQfvPwed3Av0Oy53dxjacx3VzWMJkEyubFNXvY6YuOyroLmIqGUI07EVhpN_bxj2A5ML1w7qQxFwS1YrpaSGOCOw3BsZildXfEP99KouyDQUI4/s320/337244_10151358460207931_277633657_o.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px; text-align: justify;">This is Donald. Sorry boys, he's straight. Photo by Pamela Ann Berry</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I had the opportunity
to work with Donald Seaman a few years back at Jackson College when he was
working with the Theatre Department. His sense of humor and love of learning is
contagious. He posted this on his Facebook page on Friday after the SCOTUS
ruling and I asked him if I could share it with my audience. I am humbled by
how many straight allies we have out there, and it’s heartening to know that we
did not go into this battle for marriage equality alone. Thank you Donald for
your friendship, your support, and your prose. You need to write a book dude. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’ll shut up
now and let Donald speak: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s a great
day for the U.S.A. everybody! Ours is the 23rd country to remove its head from
its hind-end to grant marriage rights to same-sex couples. I really, really,
really wish we had been the first (ambition should be made of sterner stuff)
but it is a grand day indeed and we are all better for it. I want to share my
enthusiasm and write as gracefully as Justice Kennedy, but I fear there is
naught left to say. I will share a post from a couple years ago to clarify my
point of view but before you read that, I feel compelled to draw a minor
parallel to something I was part of yesterday.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We recently
finished an ESL teaching certification course here at UT-Austin where one of
our students was a blind refugee. He was a curious, playful and endearing
student and we all grew fond of his humor and his charm. During the final week
of class he invited several of us to his home and yesterday four of the
teachers were able to join him for dinner at his apartment where we learned a
bit about him and ourselves. The visit went as I expected it would; he was
generous, gregarious and sweet. There were some brief moments of tension as we
tried to decode his broken English and forestall awkward faux pas due to
cultural confusion, but overall it was very pleasant and I think everyone was
glad they could attend. I have met, known and served visually impaired people
in the past, but I have never been in the home of a blind man. His was a tidy,
comfortable apartment, not unlike my own but for minor differences. After just
a few moments I understood the privilege and advantage of sight. We were able
to make a few discrete adjustments on his behalf, but long-term remediation was
beyond our grasp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The
relevance to today’s Supreme Court ruling on gay marriage is this; while I can
imagine what it’s like to be blind, I have the luxury of opening my eyes. I am
not blind and I am not gay, so whatever degree of sympathy I have for
oft-marginalized populations, I fear I can’t truly empathize with them. I
realized that I can do what I’m doing now; I can write and advocate on behalf
of my colleagues and friends, but I can’t really put myself in their position
because there will always be seemingly minor but realistically gargantuan
details about which I haven’t the foggiest. I noticed things which I simply
hadn’t imagined but which were so obviously problematic that I was forced to
meditate on my good fortune. When the news broke today I immediately reflected
on what I learned yesterday and I thought that this ruling might be as
restorative and empowering as the gift of sight would be for our student.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“To live, to
see the sun, to be in full possession of viral force; to possess health and
joy; to laugh valiantly; to rush toward a glory which one sees dazzling in
front of one; to feel in one's breast lungs which breathe, a heart which beats,
a will which reasons; to speak, think, hope, love; to have a mother, to have a
wife, to have children, to have the light” - Victor Hugo, Les Misérables<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I was glad
for the political progress, but I also felt a sense of relief for every
encumbered individual who could finally count themselves as a fully vested
member of society because many of these people are my artistic, philosophical
and intellectual heroes. Perhaps this is empathy? I don’t know. Hitch and Stephen
Fry were more succinct and poignant in their remarks during the Intelligence²
debate in October of 2009:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Well, I say
that homosexuality is not just a form of sex, it’s a form of love, and it
deserves our respect for that reason.” - Christopher Hitchens<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“It’s a
little hard for me to know that I am disordered, or again to quote Ratzinger
that I am ‘guilty of a moral evil’ simply by fulfilling my sexual destiny as I
see it. It’s hard for me to be told that. To be told that I’m evil. Because I
think of myself as someone who is filled with love, whose only purpose in life
was to achieve love, and who feels love for so much of nature and the world and
for everything else and who like anybody decent and of an education realizes
that in order to achieve and receive love it’s a struggle.” - Stephen Fry<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I too think
of myself as someone who is filled with love and whose only purpose in life is
to serve love and to achieve love, but all things are not for all people.
Marriage may not come to me, to you or to someone you think deserves it. We are
not entitled to all that we covet, but neither should we be envious or
bellicose to those who perfect their passions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I recently
found an old high school portfolio from Mr. Lawrence’s psych class. I was
amazed to find that even then I wrote in support of progressive drug policies,
assisted suicide and gay rights. I don't mention it to fish for compliments,
but simply to invigorate those of you who may feel that your current
progressive beliefs may be far-fetched. I'm proud to say I've supported these
issues for over twenty years and each is finally coming to fruition.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As for
arguments contra gay marriage I am utterly uninterested and you can piss right
off. The battle is over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Below you'll
find my remarks from March of 2013 regarding this very topic:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I'm an expert in nothing outside
myself, and when confronted with a fresh donut even that proficiency is
suspect, but I can claim to know what love is. (thank you, Forrest). I am not
married, don't have a girlfriend, haven't been privileged to see my own child
born, but I do know what love is. I adore my friends' kids. They are the best
thing in my life. I am thankful every day for my parents and love them beyond
comprehension. My brother is still a source of admiration and pride. He's so
smart and we have a shorthand for humor that only siblings have. My friends
have made my life better by accepting me as I was and enjoying what
considerable mischief I could bring to their lives. Devotion is a pale shadow
of what I feel when I think on my friends, so it makes no sense that I should
ignore even a small opportunity to lend my voice in support of the only thing
that gets me to put one foot in front of the other; love. There were nights of
endless pleasure, as the song goes, but what motivates me to support marriage
equality are the nights of endless solitude. If you have ever felt that
earth-cracking avalanche of melancholy when you are the guest with no +1 or
when another moonrise magnifies the empty seat next to you, why, why on Earth
would you be so primitive, atavistic and crude as to deny love or even try to
destroy it for another? This is not admirable, this is not leadership, this is
not holy, spiritual, ethical, moral or laudable in any way. This is base. This
is contrary to everything we learned in kindergarten. One memory always moves
me. There is no delicate entrée for your gentler natures, but evening fell and
we took our cue from the urges within, searching for our identities in each
other's arms. I saw her wipe a tear away and smile. Unsure of just about
everything at that moment I asked her what was wrong. She said "Nothing.
Nothing is wrong. I'm just so happy to be with you and I know that you love
me." Now, things fall apart, that relationship didn't hold, but the moment
did. It was wonderful, it was tender, it was emotional, it was psychological,
it was love. Not every story has a happy ending, but every tale has a teller.
Each of us is writing a story. Each of us has different complications. There is
not a single reason why love should be any more complicated than it already is.
We are in a time when men and women are more comfortable living out loud, but
think of the people you know who simply couldn't in their time. As Pooh says,
"Together is a very grand thing to be." Let's get together and move
forward, abandoning the irrational lunacies of a too cloudy past and perhaps,
in the words of Hitchens, "our species would begin to grow to something
like its full height if we left this childishness behind". I know what
love is and wish it for all of my friends. Equally.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-28666759553697301302015-04-24T10:57:00.001-04:002015-04-24T10:57:38.438-04:00Doing time with the Post-Impressionists<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Starry, starry night<br />
Paint your palette blue and gray<br />
Look out on a summer's day<br />
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Vincent (Starry,
starry night)</b> Don McLean<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi17cxSCye-T-bd-nqHfpqBlhua_oBif3fkbrDtL-AfzYOrLz79S83kaoKyR6leKl6_8TLln1uIyhN8zTWLfG4QI7sfosKW3Bj60SnosXsyeHDAmpGjNHrey9rZeMRsKI_uGV7zZ51PWnk/s1600/the-starry-night-1889(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi17cxSCye-T-bd-nqHfpqBlhua_oBif3fkbrDtL-AfzYOrLz79S83kaoKyR6leKl6_8TLln1uIyhN8zTWLfG4QI7sfosKW3Bj60SnosXsyeHDAmpGjNHrey9rZeMRsKI_uGV7zZ51PWnk/s1600/the-starry-night-1889(1).jpg" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
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After my lecture on the Impressionists and
Post-Impressionists, I ask the students to let me know which artist, or which
piece of art, had the biggest impact on them. These artists are often labeled
as boring or pedestrian as their humble scenes of domesticity and bucolic
landscapes often go unnoticed. The artwork is what some consider “hotel art” or
art that doesn't challenge or offend the viewer. However, once the students
hear the back stories on these artists (particularly Van Gogh, and Toulouse-Lautrec),
their opinions change and they view this art with new eyes and attitudes. One
of the students, a quiet young man with a passion for music had this to say
about Van Gogh. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>The painting that I have come to enjoy more
and more over the past few months is “Starry Night” by Van Gogh. I’m not a huge
painting fan, so I don’t know much of his work. I know this one though and I
love it with the colors, swirls, everything. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Van Gogh inspired me with this painting by
reminding me of home. Being in this place, it is really easy to become “institutionalized,”
or immune to reality. I’ve tried very hard to not let that happen to me and
this painting, whether I see it or not, has helped me. Just thinking about it
helps me to remember that there is more to all of this than just prison and
someday, I’ll get to go home and experience that. That’s what keeps me going every
day. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Thank you for this class. </i><o:p></o:p></div>
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I was humbled by this disclosure especially after a
particularly challenging week dealing with the bureaucracy associated with the
MDOC and teaching in this facility. I was renewed as I realized that for some,
I was bringing a sense of hope into their lives, a sense of having a purpose
beyond being a number in the penal system. It’s not easy work, teaching never
is, but its rewards are often more than you can ever imagine. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-66237905044880321572015-04-21T11:28:00.000-04:002015-04-21T11:28:30.525-04:00Picture Perfect<div class="MsoNormal">
Please meet my buddy Seth. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWDEAbP1k-XVNbV3zicdrSbBHRcDKpzKk8p8gu409UVkQ3uqlFvFAmhHJ_rEKCVeZN72mRjDmCdXt6EegB4Jk_goEGXfoS8Dz4liFzms5x2Wuel_Tzf9oEc2CrP-fwYo0b60s5-fbuZI/s1600/11160402_10152964724283842_1942631212_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWDEAbP1k-XVNbV3zicdrSbBHRcDKpzKk8p8gu409UVkQ3uqlFvFAmhHJ_rEKCVeZN72mRjDmCdXt6EegB4Jk_goEGXfoS8Dz4liFzms5x2Wuel_Tzf9oEc2CrP-fwYo0b60s5-fbuZI/s1600/11160402_10152964724283842_1942631212_n.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photograph by Luis Saenz</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I had his mom as a student a long
time ago, and he remembered me from all her rants and raves about me (we had a tumultuous
student/teacher relationship). We connected a beer and beards event here in
Jackson several years ago, and since then, we’ve become great friends. We share
a love of photography as well as a love for family and social justice. Seth
asked us if he could photograph our family and we (the attention whores that we
are) eagerly said yes. He and his future bride Anyee took us out on a blustery
day and photographed us all over our fair city. Anyee did a bang up job
wrangling the kids and she also helped keep Anna’s hair in check with all the
wind.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmtEgKDbT0Y1PFWkc1OK6LNxXXOwVZWPFebIrfkKaWMKigaV8wPdu3iurXvrrdgoAUpN7WzrZ7BuF7JKgQfsODmzIB0Q52Pcf1hpdbtSwNR_tgLRyaEfZjKnrzIQnwFNOmtmyRbNVWsz0/s1600/1507243_627419260686225_5228186429034095365_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmtEgKDbT0Y1PFWkc1OK6LNxXXOwVZWPFebIrfkKaWMKigaV8wPdu3iurXvrrdgoAUpN7WzrZ7BuF7JKgQfsODmzIB0Q52Pcf1hpdbtSwNR_tgLRyaEfZjKnrzIQnwFNOmtmyRbNVWsz0/s1600/1507243_627419260686225_5228186429034095365_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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He didn’t care that we were a same-sex couple, he didn’t
invoke the bible or Jesus to say no to us, HE SOUGHT US OUT and for that we are
very appreciative. In these troubling times of homophobic pizza parlors and
mechanics that will purposely reassemble your car in a dangerous manner to
teach you about the gays, it’s nice to find someone like Seth and Anyee that go
out of their way to support us and the LGBT community. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVFjtnxPzcl07SITsOr_lERbR4h3NDve4-crMPM5HJQSGc1hsLFlZ7PiJZBdUSvJIIsM_1afHGF929wW7O3IN4cWVdyu0Zaje_vAHtZp6OLtMwv9hIOdD0mCxHaKALPtCVrQwf8lb45uQ/s1600/10402756_733272823434201_8284272087285164903_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVFjtnxPzcl07SITsOr_lERbR4h3NDve4-crMPM5HJQSGc1hsLFlZ7PiJZBdUSvJIIsM_1afHGF929wW7O3IN4cWVdyu0Zaje_vAHtZp6OLtMwv9hIOdD0mCxHaKALPtCVrQwf8lb45uQ/s1600/10402756_733272823434201_8284272087285164903_n.jpg" height="160" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.michiganformarriage.org/" target="_blank">Michigan for Marriage </a>picked up one of his photos from my post on Facebook and asked if they could
use it for an email blast and we said yes. So our smiling family, posed in
front of Louise Nevelson’s “<a href="http://jesushas2daddies.blogspot.com/2009/11/it-was-hated-and-reviled-when-it-first.html" target="_blank">Summer Night Tree</a>” was sent to thousands of folks
in Michigan and beyond. We received many compliments on the photo and how it
presented us as just another family and not the scary gays that those
homophobes are so up in arms about. <o:p></o:p></div>
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So why all this love? Seth is having his first showing of
art at the Grand River Brewery this Saturday. It’s a great place and a great
venue to look at art and drink some fine beer. Please consider stopping by this
Saturday from 6:00 to 10:00 pm to check out Seth’s photos and the work of several
other artists in the brewery’s event hall. <o:p></o:p></div>
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You can find more about the event on their Facebook
invitation here: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/348016968730292/">https://www.facebook.com/events/348016968730292/</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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You can find more about Seth and his artwork here: <a href="http://www.sethingtonscreations.com/">http://www.sethingtonscreations.com/</a>
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-58009505509215634462015-03-31T20:57:00.001-04:002015-03-31T20:58:31.858-04:00Kids and art: Musings from an art educator and parent<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjga0XaoLMpP56HGuxM1Ae46__8kgy0t4Cgw-8yqra3lajSalgZaRHVoXDdD79WRsn_PhQkS1bXWyXGD_njxyIn_XVRoraSYolBBkLqRzDRoIL1TgTR0ANol05NK6eqNFSbf2PQQVQtucw/s1600/481064_10151573479183842_157184533_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjga0XaoLMpP56HGuxM1Ae46__8kgy0t4Cgw-8yqra3lajSalgZaRHVoXDdD79WRsn_PhQkS1bXWyXGD_njxyIn_XVRoraSYolBBkLqRzDRoIL1TgTR0ANol05NK6eqNFSbf2PQQVQtucw/s1600/481064_10151573479183842_157184533_n.jpg" height="320" width="304" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A photo of the artist as a young child c. 1972</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Growing up in Toledo (Ohio) gave me the chance to go to the
fabulous <a href="http://www.toledomuseum.org/" target="_blank">Toledo Museum of Art</a> many times as a child; on both school field trips
and trips with the family. The museum has a long and storied history of arts
education for children of all ages. Some of my earliest memories as a kid are
from the museum and the trips I took to this amazing institution. During the
school trips, if you were good on the tour, the docent would end the trip with
a visit to the Classical Court to see the mummy. Our deceased Egyptian friend
is no longer on view due to <a href="http://www.academia.edu/4677578/THE_LIVING_DEAD_EGYPTIAN_MUMMIES_AND_THE_ETHICS_OF_DISPLAY" target="_blank">changing ideas</a> on displaying human remains, so for
many of us, the mummy lives on only in our memories. Along with the school
tours, the museum also offered Saturday <a href="http://www.toledomuseum.org/learn/classes/" target="_blank">classes</a> for the kids of Northwest Ohio
and it was a thrill for me to go back to the museum as a college student and
help out as an assistant thanks to a scholarship from the University of Toledo.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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My parents understood my love of art, and kept me happy with
a steady supply of art materials as a kid. Coloring books were fun, but stacks
of blank or recycled paper from my dad’s office were even better. Each trip to
my maternal grandparent’s home had us racing to my grandma’s desk to pull out
the countless coloring books and notepads that my cousins and I colored in each
visit. They provided us the big clunky crayons when we were little, but as we
grew, they crayons got smaller and the assortment of colors available grew. We
knew we hit the big time when the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Crayola-64-Ct-Crayons-52-0064/dp/B00004YO15" target="_blank">64 color assortment</a> showed up with the built
in sharpener!</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3aBH6kLMSDq9D2KQIIqI82umEOV4gq2TBCKIi7z9ZS1qqiUmsNbJ84irBqc275rl_vz86jFYw_W3gpR7Hy_zqKFIVC6PDjiS9ApmqGbam9_ZUYbmulnmR-jJ8Ba4jtVytf2ONipvEtEw/s1600/string.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3aBH6kLMSDq9D2KQIIqI82umEOV4gq2TBCKIi7z9ZS1qqiUmsNbJ84irBqc275rl_vz86jFYw_W3gpR7Hy_zqKFIVC6PDjiS9ApmqGbam9_ZUYbmulnmR-jJ8Ba4jtVytf2ONipvEtEw/s1600/string.jpg" height="320" width="270" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"String Art" by Tommy Oakley 1970.</td></tr>
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<o:p></o:p><br />
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My parents also understood the power of displaying my
creations. A string art picture made in kindergarten was given to my paternal
grandparents as a gift. It hung in their family room and when my grandma moved
into an assisted living facility after my grandfather’s death, it followed her
and sat on her television. When my grandma passed, my dad returned the artwork
to me, still framed and in pretty good condition (considering our less than
ideal archival framing). It now hangs in our home along with our own children’s
work. Our dining room is graced by a large oil painting done by my husband’s
grandmother after her time following the amazing <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Joy-Painting-Bob-Ross/dp/B001U84ZE8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1427849499&sr=8-1&keywords=joy+of+painting+bob+ross+dvd" target="_blank">Bob Ross</a> on PBS. A piece done
by Anna at the Toledo Museum of Art, in the same classroom that I went to as a
kid, hangs below it with one of Eli’s early paintings from day care. They might
not be famous artists, but we love and cherish them just the same. We have a
magnet purchased at the <a href="http://www.dia.org/" target="_blank">Detroit Institute of Art</a> that says in big bold letters:
THIS IS ART so there isn't any question about the artifacts done by our two
kids hung on the fridge for display. If you haven’t figured it out, we love
art!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Studies have shown that increased involvement in the arts
beyond the school have a huge impact on the child on an emotional and educational
level. The work of <a href="http://childdevelopmentinfo.com/learning/multiple_intelligences/the-importance-of-the-creative-arts-for-children-and-teens/" target="_blank">Shirley Brice Heath </a>of Stanford University found that
students involved in the arts were:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span>Four times more likely to win an academic award,
such as being on the honor roll.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span>Eight times more likely to receive a community
service award.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span>Three times more likely to win a school
attendance award.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span>Four times more likely to participate in a math
or science fair.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Likely to score higher on their SAT college
admission test scores if they have been involved for more than four years of
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As an arts educator, it should
come as no surprise that I try to expose my kids to the arts any time we can.
They went with me to the opening weekend of Art Prize in Grand Rapids, MI to
view my entry and have gone to countless museums and galleries with us as we
have toured the Midwest. Just this past weekend, a group of artists from the
Jackson area put on a show called “Renegade” in a vacant warehouse in our
neighborhood. Many of the artists present were former students of mine and I was
super thrilled to come and support them. The planners put out a kids’ table
full of blank canvases, a roll of paper, and several different types of paint.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBSYkcL1ILGaBp2pGkV-zgM3v6zLTRIFZvz7wtK0z8TJAzvBu-afqWrj9kiIEoM8KZ04d-cX1n-gCcW67b-ABGARnJ4uMn4Rowk74Zu9HBjdc0wo1d9YQzAr2o_t1vKaVIFIX0X5GCNyo/s1600/Anna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBSYkcL1ILGaBp2pGkV-zgM3v6zLTRIFZvz7wtK0z8TJAzvBu-afqWrj9kiIEoM8KZ04d-cX1n-gCcW67b-ABGARnJ4uMn4Rowk74Zu9HBjdc0wo1d9YQzAr2o_t1vKaVIFIX0X5GCNyo/s1600/Anna.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anna's landscape. Watercolor on stretched canvas</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiO2K2xBxpm4tYT_o6REDn4Yus7M_avf0WWC4S29Ls9AmfHZsL2YNAYjgodOQL89VfEEYjSpEu1p-pbaTLYRCLQkS7sozzb4l6YtkIYwZD-QxyPDHKQB6xELRoiCsx40jELJRSsB0tVwE/s1600/ELI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiO2K2xBxpm4tYT_o6REDn4Yus7M_avf0WWC4S29Ls9AmfHZsL2YNAYjgodOQL89VfEEYjSpEu1p-pbaTLYRCLQkS7sozzb4l6YtkIYwZD-QxyPDHKQB6xELRoiCsx40jELJRSsB0tVwE/s1600/ELI.jpg" height="263" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eli's abstraction in black and brown. Watercolor on stretched canvas</td></tr>
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Where do you think my kids were all afternoon? When Eli wasn’t out dancing in
front of the musicians, he was with his sister creating works that will
undoubtedly end up gracing our walls in the near future. When you support the
arts with your kids in tow, you support not only the artists but your kids’
futures as well. <br />
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-10511400414517581202015-03-01T10:16:00.001-05:002015-03-01T10:16:17.339-05:00Chronic Marriage Fatigue Syndrome<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLmK3uOBhQddsdoAFw6weISnTd0Gv74otd_apGOtkQY-Fc9ydQszVIK8Piez8MFTHpxZVhW1iKl0P8CTAKbsPSqm8MMnHDGInvl5M5rlMhiNk3nYpsxmMc0dInHpvDqSeUvEaTjrpjBA/s1600/IMG_1535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLmK3uOBhQddsdoAFw6weISnTd0Gv74otd_apGOtkQY-Fc9ydQszVIK8Piez8MFTHpxZVhW1iKl0P8CTAKbsPSqm8MMnHDGInvl5M5rlMhiNk3nYpsxmMc0dInHpvDqSeUvEaTjrpjBA/s1600/IMG_1535.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Life has been rough lately, and I have been struggling to
figure out why. I’m tired, I’m overwhelmed, and I have little hope left in my
heart these days. Everything seems to be a struggle: from making dinner to
getting our two kids settled down for the night. I feel like an extra on “The Walking
Dead” as I shuffle through life and all it brings. It started back in November
with my husband. We were both crushed by the results of our state and local
elections. A feeling of helplessness
hung over our heads as we realized that the GOP would remain in control here in
Michigan. The Michigan Republicans are decidedly unfriendly to LGBT people and
to teachers. We are both of those. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We were also waiting for a ruling from the 6th Circuit Court
regarding the repeal of Michigan’s same-sex marriage ban. I had joked via
Twitter that we would probably have Ebola in Michigan before marriage equality,
and one afternoon after the elections, that prophecy came true. No, it wasn’t
Ebola, it was the 6th Circuit Court upholding the 2004 voter approved proposal
against same-sex marriage. Tod, my
husband, had not heard the news, so when he came home, I grabbed him and told
him what the court had ruled. I could see in his eyes he was crushed. We hugged
and then we bonked our wedding rings together like the Wonder Twins in
solidarity. I knew that this would be the outcome all along. I had little hope
of the 6th Circuit Court agreeing with the end of the ban, so when the news
came, it was no shock to me. But Tod took it hard. He was sad and unable to
deal with the feelings that this brought. I was proactive after the ruling and
ditched a ton of my commitments in the community. I needed to focus on my
family and bring what little energy I had into our lives to help keep us
together. Tod went to our physician (at my prodding) and he got some help from
the doctor and he is doing fine now. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the month wore on and the holidays approached, I couldn’t
shake the funk from my shoulders. I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on
television. I do however have access to the internet and I did some
self-diagnosis over how I was feeling and it became clear to me that this
wasn’t just depression I was dealing with, it was something deeper. I found Robert
Hirschfield’s <a href="http://www.amazon.com/When-Blues-Wont-Away-Approaches/dp/0025518259" target="_blank">“When the blues won’t go away”</a> at our local library and I
discovered that I most likely have <a href="http://www.allaboutdepression.com/dia_04.html" target="_blank">dysthymic disorder</a>. DD (as it’s known) is a
low level, chronic mood malfunction. It’s not as severe as a major depression,
bi-polar disease, or other macro-behavioral problems, but it is real and
persistent and does not usually go away on its own. DD can go on for years, and
it’s often impossible for the person affected to know that it is going on. Now,
before you panic, I have made an appointment with our doctor and I am going in
for a checkup to make sure that I am okay. In Hirschfield’s book, he mentions
that trauma in your life can cause this disorder and he urges self-reflection
to sit down and find out what was causing it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I did that, and for me, the tipping point came when our
governor announced that he would not challenge the appeal on the 300 marriages
that were performed when the window was open last year. That was great news for
many of our friends who took advantage of the window and got hitched that
Saturday. But for us, our marriage in California is still not legal in
Michigan. The unfairness of it all sucks, and it hurts. I started thinking
about this and I realized that for the past ten years, I have been living in a
state of angst over gay marriage and how it affects me. I was heavily involved
in the struggle to defeat <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michigan_Proposal_04-2" target="_blank">Proposition 4</a> in 2004 and when it came to be, I was pissed.
I retreated to my own little world and shut out the world. I didn’t feel
wanted, I didn’t feel loved, and I didn’t feel like a viable member of society.
At the time, Tod and I had only had a commitment ceremony to cement our vows,
but with this prohibition on the books, it seemed almost impossible to do
anything else. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But then there was a ray of hope, streaming in from the
west. California had approved same-sex marriage and there wasn’t a residency
requirement. We were elated at the news and made plans in 2008 to fly out to
San Francisco to get legally married on the 7th anniversary of our commitment
ceremony in 2001. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But then Proposition 8 reared its ugly head and it all began
to fall apart just a few months after our big day. The voters in California
approved it and we, as well as the thousands of other couples were left
wondering if our legal marriages were still intact. We knew that they would
mean nothing here in Michigan, but we took the time, the money, and the risk to
make it happen, not only for us as a couple, but for our daughter as well (Eli
was not yet in the picture). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You know the rest of this story, and you know how it all
played out a few summers ago with the repeal of DOMA and Edie Windsor’s triumph
before the Supreme Court. But it hasn’t been a success for us. We’re still
waiting and the waiting and uncertainty is what’s causing this depression and
angst in my life. There are serious ramifications for our family, both from a
personal (my legal adoption of Eli) and from a financial standpoint (insurance,
taxes, etc.). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s time. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s time for us to finally be able to say we are legally
married here in the Mitten and get out of this depressive state. I see my
doctor next week and I am going to share with him what I have found out about
DD and hopefully he’ll be able to shed some light on my mental state and offer
me some solutions. I need to get my hope back for the sake of my kids and
marriage. I need to get my peace of mind back for my own sanity and general
health. I can’t wait for June and the ruling from the Supreme Court. It is our hope that this cloud of inequality
will finally pass and we can get on with our lives as a healthy, sane (?) and
legally married couple here in Michigan. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-88453215051220789612015-02-06T16:27:00.000-05:002015-02-06T16:27:02.924-05:00The Death of a Bully<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXGDOn5RNYUm2aHXDbHmRJq3k1Gnbylm62PVFCL7VYVWj3oMP67A04p1bx_5qB-8OnQPGHuElhFAjdUAhS0aObwXDySOuT-AoZ07Z5NlntEUL2hBuwUGjNiuRKmFQkPNOiKivzmWIRqEk/s1600/keep-calm-and-stop-bullying-229.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXGDOn5RNYUm2aHXDbHmRJq3k1Gnbylm62PVFCL7VYVWj3oMP67A04p1bx_5qB-8OnQPGHuElhFAjdUAhS0aObwXDySOuT-AoZ07Z5NlntEUL2hBuwUGjNiuRKmFQkPNOiKivzmWIRqEk/s1600/keep-calm-and-stop-bullying-229.png" height="200" width="171" /></a></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Author’s Note: For some
time, I have listened to my parents talk about the decline of a former member
of their church (the church I grew up in). I have grown used to this as my
parents are in their seventies and their friends from the church are even
older. Once or twice a month my mom will share the passing of a person from the
congregation, a church I left almost 30 years ago. The man that they had a
great deal of concern with was my first bully. He wasn't in the halls of my
school or on the playground, he was at their church and his bullying still
rings in my years several decades later. When we visited my parents with the
kids for the holidays, they brought up the fact that he was now in hospice and
not expected to live much longer. I shared with both of them his bullying
actions to me and my friends growing up, but they didn't seem to care. My dad
shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something about him being an old friend and
my mom commented on how rough this all was for his family during the holidays. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I addressed this man
and his bullying in my book; this is an excerpt: <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is much talk about bullying these days, and rightly
so. With the boom of social media over the past decade, it has become very easy
to taunt and harass both in person and on line. Much of the bullying prevention
is aimed at younger kids and schools everywhere have “Bully-free” signs
adorning their halls. Sadly, bullying happens at all levels. For me, I took my
fair share of ribbing when I was a kid, most of it was not aimed at my
sexuality. But going to my parents’ church was a different story. Toledo (Ohio)
in the mid-80s was still holding on to its automotive/factory roots and many of
the parents of the kids I grew up with were factory workers for Jeep or
Champion Spark Plugs. One of my friend’s parents had a collection of awards and
clocks proudly display on their television for their decades of service on the
assembly line. I chose education as my career of choice as I had great respect
for many of my teachers and I wanted to continue that tradition with my own
career. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
During this time, I was still living with my parents and
attending church with them each week. I dreaded the weekly service, as a rather
loud and obnoxious member of the church (who is probably a member of the Tea
Party now) would verbally harass us young adults, cajoling us for being in
college and not “doing anything” in his stunted vision of life as an adult. Due
to his family’s status in the church, we usually blew him off and nervously laughed
while he called us worthless one hundred different ways each week. The Sunday dread
set in when I saw his pickup truck in the church’s parking lot, adorned with
flags, veteran stickers and countless other right wing causes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Was this bullying? Probably, but we were young, and no one in
the church seemed to care that this guy could verbally abuse us every Sunday
and get away with it. Everyone, including my parents, seemed to think it was
okay. They would laugh and say that he was just being himself and in so many
words, we should buck up and take it. I think my parents actually sent me to
ex-gay camp at his house when I was a kid to knock out some wood working
projects and tinker on cars (which I hated) since I didn't embrace any of that
as a kid. I would have been happier playing with my Planet of the Apes
Tree house set or reading, but they had other plans. So I diligently trudged up
the street to his house each week and pretended to care about what he was
trying to teach me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This man was physically large and intimidating and he always
wore a flag pin before you <i>had</i> to
wear one post 9/11. He would pony up to us youngsters in the narthex of the
church before the service and smack our shoulders and ask us what we learned in
college as he wiggled his hips and made funny faces. He took particular joy in
making fun of my choice to teach art. His voice would slip into a lisp and he
would ask how my classes (classsssssssssses….he hissed) were going at the
museum. Never mind that I was going to a world class institution and had some
of the best art education professors in the state, to him it was all a joke. If
he didn't do that, he’d ask us what we had done for our country lately,
insinuating that since none of us were in the military the answer would be
nothing (he was a veteran, natch). He never once called me gay or questioned my
sexuality. He didn't have to, his actions spoke for him. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of my college jobs was an activities director at a
nursing home. The facility had a VA contract, so we had a rather large
population of veterans from all branches of the military. Aside from hosting
countless bingo games and craft projects, I was also mandated by the VA to give
the veterans a well-deserved block of my attention each week. With this aspect
of my job, I could finally respond to his annoying question of “What have you
done for your country this week?” My work at the nursing home provided a
tangible answer to his taunt. The veterans and I would do puzzles, smoke cigars
(yes, they could smoke in the facility, and drink too!), or we would watch old
war movies that I rented from the library. For those that couldn't get out of
bed, or were too far gone, I’d sit with them and read them a story from a
Reader’s Digest, or I would just sit with them and hold their hand. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So one Sunday, I had finally had enough. When the man came
up for his weekly harassing, the question came up, as it had so many Sundays
before: “What have you done for your country this week?” I turned to him and
started listing all the things I had done with the various veterans in the
facility, calling each of them by name and mentioning what I did with them and
how much time I spent with them. I then looked him straight in the eye and
said, “How about you?” He didn't have an
answer and walked away. My heart was in my throat after calling him out on his
bull shit, but it felt good to finally put this lug in his place. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Post script: </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I learned
that he died on New Year’s Day. My dad
posted on Facebook that he held on until January 1<sup>st</sup> as he wanted to
live to see 2015. He told his family that he had already bought a calendar for
the year and didn't want to waste it. The comments after the post expressed
sympathy for the family and praised this man. For me, I am just glad that the
bullying stopped, but the memory of those actions remain. </i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>You can find my book,
“Jesus has two Daddies” here: </i><a href="https://www.createspace.com/4404757"><i>https://www.createspace.com/4404757</i></a><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-90329015061162415442014-12-14T12:21:00.000-05:002014-12-14T12:21:50.169-05:00Trollin' Hatin' and Bad Formattin'<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPDG5ARGQ5iuHbW0pOjq9JOjA7NiDT84reFCpXmgtlEB9M4Wd7arhBCoAjE0_QNntmBadh1AFN81-epBlFGvnyvVncCsxoaM_Kw_WQW5KneedchdRg_Luz4Zly8eYGVyF8NJ7cvS0HQk/s1600/internet-troll-20110516-102141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPDG5ARGQ5iuHbW0pOjq9JOjA7NiDT84reFCpXmgtlEB9M4Wd7arhBCoAjE0_QNntmBadh1AFN81-epBlFGvnyvVncCsxoaM_Kw_WQW5KneedchdRg_Luz4Zly8eYGVyF8NJ7cvS0HQk/s1600/internet-troll-20110516-102141.jpg" height="320" width="289" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I could not find a picture of Mr. Luke Richardson on line, but I suppose it looks something like this. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>My recent <a href="http://goo.gl/bG2yVN" target="_blank">post</a> on the Huffington Post regarding Gay Marriage was widely shared and read within my circle of friends
and fellow bloggers. To this date, there were no comments on the blog entry and
it seemed that I made my point. As we all know, the internet is a crazy place,
and people who are off their meds or have let their tin foil hat slip often are
the ones running the show. I woke up today to a letter in my work mailbox from
a teacher in New York City regarding my piece on gay marriage. To make it
interesting, he sent it to every goddamned person at the college. I am not sure
how he got everyone’s email, but he did. My colleagues have been responding
back to his rant (see below) and have asked him to not contact them again. I
appreciate their support. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">The offer from the writer to “feel free to respond to my email…” is a
tempting offer. However, as we all know, if you feed the trolls, they will not
go away. So instead, I’ll just share with you his SIX PAGE rant, as it was
sent, formatting and all. People wonder why I put myself out there, and they
wonder why I share so much. It’s because of people like this that I continue to
share about the inequities in our lives. I will not be bullied, I will not be
silenced, nor will I stand rhetoric such as this “<b><u>It is simply to tell
you that you are a moral failure, a coward, and a fraud</u></b></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">.” I am far from all three. It takes courage to
put your life out there for people to read about. It takes conviction and an
inner compass of morality to stand up for not only my family, but for those in
our state going through the same trials due to our state’s draconian laws
regarding LGBT families. And, if you know me, I am the real deal. I can’t stand
frauds or fakes and I do my best to live a life that is open and transparent.
When you are in the public eye, you can’t afford to be anything but. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>After reading his letter, I was reminded of the time when former rock
star and racist nut job Ted Nugent had a community forum on his webpage. It was
a fantasy land of conspiracy, terrible formatting and copious amounts of bloviating
on any number of subjects. A colleague of mine pointed out that I was not the
only <a href="http://goo.gl/Cuor3M" target="_blank">one</a> to receive this letter. </i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>As mentioned, I will not
personally engage him, but if you would like, feel free to contact him: <a href="mailto:lrichardsonluke@aol.com">lrichardsonluke@aol.com</a>.
<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Behold, the ramblings of Luke Richardson: </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Dear Professor
McMillen-Oakley: </span></b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> I
have read your article in <b><i>The Huffington Post</i></b> entitled
“A Holiday Letter to the Supreme Court” that was posted on December 8</span><sup><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 10pt;">th</span></sup><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">, 2014. I noticed that your article appeared in the “<b>Gay
Marriage</b>” section of the website. In your article you
acknowledged that you are openly gay and living with another man. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> As
a high school history teacher from New York City, I have a different
perspective on morality than many people. <b><u>I personally do not
agree with same-sex marriage and I do not endorse homosexual conduct</u></b>. Nor
do I agree with the so-called “progressive” and “enlightened” views you are
advocating. I would like to say why. Feel free to respond
to my email if you like. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> As
you may or may not know, in the <b><u>United States of America, at least
636, 000 Americans have already died of AIDS from 1981 to 2010 inclusive</u></b>. The
body count numbers for 2011, 2012, 2013, and thus far in 2014, have not been
included. At the start of 2010, <b><u>at least 1.1 million
Americans were living with HIV</u></b>. All of these casualties
occurred within just one generation, a generation being 30 years (1981 –
2011). <b><u>What does it mean to lose at least 636, 000 Americans
from AIDS within one generation?</u></b> Consider the following
evidence:</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">This is <b><u>more
than 10 times</u></b> American fatalities in the <b><u>Vietnam War
(1959 – 1975)</u></b>. America had 58, 000 servicemen killed in this
conflict.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><b><u><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More
than five times</span></u></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> American
fatalities in <b><u>World War I (1917 – 1918)</u></b>. America
had 116, 000 servicemen killed in this conflict.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><b><u><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More
than</span></u></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> American
fatalities in <b><u>World War II (1941 – 1945)</u></b>. America
had 407, 000 servicemen killed in this conflict.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than American
fatalities in <b><u>World I</u></b>, <b><u>World War II</u></b>,
and <b><u>Vietnam</u></b>—all added up together.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More people than are
presently buried in <b><u>Arlington National Cemetery</u></b>. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than American
fatalities in the <b><u>American Revolution (1775 – 1783)</u></b>.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than the fatalities
incurred in the <b><u>American Civil War (1861 – 1865)</u></b> where
620, 000 people died in the worst war in American history. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than <b><u>Napoleon
Bonaparte</u></b> lost in his disastrous retreat from <b><u>Moscow in
1812</u></b>. Napoleon lost over 500, 000 men due to the severe
Russian winter. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than the <b><u>Axis
powers</u></b> lost in North Africa in World War II.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than the Allied
forces lost in the battle of <b><u>Passchendaele</u></b> in World War
I.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than the French
Army lost in the battle of <b><u>Verdun</u></b> in World War I.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than the losses
incurred by the British Empire forces and her allies in the <b><u>Somme
Offensive</u></b> of 1916. The allies incurred 623, 000
casualties at the Somme for a gain of less than</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">
12 kilometers of land. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than were killed by
all the defoliant <b><u>Agent Orange</u></b> sprayed on the jungles
of Vietnam.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Of
the 636, 000 Americans that have died of AIDS, at least 53% of this figure is
made up of homosexuals. Therefore, at least <b><u>337, 080
homosexuals in the United States have died of AIDS</u></b>. From
1981 to 2010 inclusive (within a generation), <b><u>over 555, 000
homosexuals in America were diagnosed with full-blown AIDS</u></b>according to
the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Even
though they are a tiny minority of the population in <b><u>America</u></b>,
men who have sex with men (MSM) in <b><u>America</u></b> make up the
majority of the new HIV infections, the majority of AIDS cases, and the
majority of the AIDS fatalities. The tiny minority tail has lost
more people than the big majority dog. This reality has to do with
the fact that they (MSM) engage in conduct that is self-destructive, goes
against nature, and is considered high risk. <b><u>What does it mean
to lose at least 337, 080 homosexuals from AIDS in America within just one
generation?</u></b> Consider the following evidence:</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">This is <b><u>more
than five times</u></b> American fatalities in the <b><u>Vietnam War
(1959 – 1975)</u></b>.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><b><u><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More
than double</span></u></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">, nearly triple,
American fatalities in World War I.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than the <b><u>German
Army</u></b> lost on the Russian Front in their catastrophic defeat in the
battle of <b><u>Stalingrad</u></b> in 1943. The German
Army incurred 330, 000 casualties in this one</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">
battle.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than were lost by
the <b><u>Italian Fascist armies of Benito Mussolini</u></b> on the
Russian Front in World War II. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than were killed by
the two <b><u>atomic bombs</u></b> that were dropped on <b><u>Hiroshima</u></b> and <b><u>Nagasaki</u></b>—put
together.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than the fatalities
incurred by the <b><u>slave states of the Confederacy</u></b> in the
American Civil War (1861 – 1865). The eleven slave states of the
Confederacy experienced 258, 000</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">
fatalities, fighting for a cause that was morally wrong.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than <b><u>six
times</u></b> the carnage at the battle of <b><u>Gettysburg (July
1-3, 1863),</u></b> where the combined casualties for both armies exceeded
53, 000 in just three days.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">In case you didn’t know, a man cannot become
pregnant. Only a woman’s body can become impregnated, carry a child
to term for nine months and breastfeed a baby. A woman’s body was
anatomically designed for bearing children. Only a man’s sperm can
impregnate a woman. Without heterosexual sex, no human beings could
exist—that includes you. Heterosexual sex is natural, necessary and
meant to be. Have you ever studied human anatomy? The
human rectum was anatomically designed for the elimination of human waste, not
to be turned into a vagina. Nobody can deny these
facts. It appears you are ignorant of the most obvious realities of
nature.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> When
you participate in behaviour that goes against nature and is self-destructive,
then the results will reflect that. In other words, <b><u>the
norms become reversed</u></b>. Why is it that in just one generation (1981
– 2011) a large number of parents have had to bury their own
children? Normally, children should be burying their parents, but
not for many of these AIDS victims. Why is it that a record number
of people are dying in peacetime rather than in wartime? Why is it
that a tiny minority of the population ends up incurring more casualties than
the majority? Why is it that many racists and warmongers have
outlived countless of these so-called peaceful and tolerant AIDS
victims? Why do so many grown men have to wear diapers like
infants? Why the silence? If one is truly proud to have
HIV/AIDS, then why try to hide it? Why hide the casualties?</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> The
number of HIV infections keeps going up with no end in sight. Every
year, more and more people are becoming infected with HIV and
AIDS. At present, 1 in every 300 Americans is infected with HIV and
climbing. In total, 1.7 million Americans have become infected with
HIV since 1981. Approximately 50, 000 Americans become
infected with HIV each year, which means that almost 1, 000 Americans
become infected with HIV each week. More Americans die from AIDS
every year than are killed in gun homicides. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> During
the <b><u>Vietnam War (1959 – 1975)</u></b>, the American forces were
incurring an average of 19 fatalities per day over the entire duration of the
conflict. At present, the number of Americans that die from AIDS
every day is more than double that. In other words, it would be like
fighting two Vietnam conflicts at the exact same time, and at the end of every
single day there is a body count which cannot be stopped and there is no
telling for how long the conflict will last. In <b><u>New York
City</u></b>alone, from 1981 to 2012, over 75, 000 AIDs deaths were
reported—more than American fatalities in the entire Vietnam War.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> The
coffin factories will never go out of business as they continue to manufacture
more coffins for these AIDS victims. Do you know someone with
HIV? A cousin? A business partner? A
brother? A sister? A friend? A
parent? A celebrity? A co-worker? A religious
leader? A son? A daughter? Chances are
you do. The trends do not appear to be going in your
favour. When you get to the point where you can easily name someone
who has contracted HIV, then you know that the disease is more widespread than
you realize. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> What
did these AIDS victims die for? What great noble cause could justify the loss
of so many people in peacetime? How can one justify the conduct that
led to these losses? What is it all for? The body count
numbers have provided a telling rebuke. Their decadent conduct has
resulted in a big waste of human life. It truly is a vast and
indefensible waste of human life. It is amusing to watch these
posers put on an act and pretend that there’s nothing wrong. When
you lose hundreds of thousands of people for nothing, people will criticize you
because they do not respect you. When people don’t respect you, they
won’t listen to you, and they won’t care what you think. Yes, there
will be a loss of respect, a loss of credibility, and a loss of legitimacy.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Take
a good look at these people with HIV/AIDS. They have tried awfully
hard to find a cure. They have bake sales for the cause, fashion
shows for the cause, concerts for the cause, battle of the bands for the cause,
celebrity dinners for the cause, celebrity endorsements for the cause,
barbeques for the cause, ecotourism for the cause, walk-a-thons for the cause,
bike-a-thons for the cause, and every other possible activity known to mankind
to support their cause. All the while they have completely ignored
the morality of their conduct and the body count that is attached to
it. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Do
you not realize that in the eyes of God up above, virtually all of the decadent
conduct that caused these people to get AIDS would be considered morally
wrong? Do you honestly believe that an all-mighty, all-knowing,
all-powerful God would endorse the conduct that these people engage
in? Where are the divine letters of recommendation to support the
cause? Where is the divine seal of approval? Where is the
divine endorsement? </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> People
like you seem to operate on the assumption that there is no God, that there is
no such thing as divine intervention, that divine justice does not exist, that
there are no absolute truths of any kind, and that there is no
afterlife. If that describes you, you are entitled to believe what
you want, but that does not necessarily mean that you are correct or that
others must be forced to subscribe to your views. If you wish to
worship the golden calf, then that is your business, but do not demand and
expect others to follow your example. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> For
these people living with HIV/AIDS, there is no war, no draft, and no arms
race. No weapons of mass destruction were used to cause this
devastation. The Cold War between America and the Soviet Union is
over. There is no declaration of war, and a single shot hasn’t even
been fired in anger at anyone. Yet, despite all of these factors
that are stacked in their favour in a time of peace, their fatalities from AIDS
are even higher. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> The
prime architect of the Vietnam War, Robert McNamara, who was the U.S. Secretary
of Defense from 1961 to 1968, admitted in his memoirs that he was wrong to have
gotten America involved in Vietnam to the extent that it was. As a
result, 58, 000 American servicemen died from 1959 to 1975. At
present however, the number of Americans that have already died from AIDS is
more than 10 times that. Nonetheless, it would appear that most of
the victims living with HIV/AIDS and most of the activists who support them,
will never admit that their conduct is wrong. They remain
unapologetic right to the grave. They never want to admit that they
have erred, no matter how high the body count goes. Why is that
relevant? It is relevant, since finding common ground with these
people will be virtually impossible. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Globally,
the body count from AIDS is very revealing. Every <b><u>12
seconds</u></b>, someone on the planet contracts HIV, and every <b><u>16
seconds</u></b> someone dies from AIDS. That translates into <b><u>12,
600</u></b> casualties a day, every day, without end in sight. <b><u>Since
1981, at least 78 million people on the planet have been diagnosed with HIV and
at least 39 million people have died of AIDS.</u></b> Nobody
knows with 100% accuracy what the real global body count number is, since many
nations do not keep accurate numbers and other nations do not even report the
number of fatalities at all. <b><u>What does it mean to experience
at least 39 million fatalities from AIDS?</u></b> Consider the following
evidence:</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">This is <b><u>more
than quadruple</u></b> the number of fatalities incurred by the <b><u>Third
Reich of Germany</u></b>.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -41.25pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -41.25pt;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More <b><u>than
triple the combined fatalities</u></b> of the big three of the <b><u>Axis
Powers</u></b> in World War II (Germany, Italy, and Japan).</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -41.25pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -41.25pt;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than were killed on
the <b><u>Russian Front</u></b> in World War II.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -41.25pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -41.25pt;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than were killed in
all of <b><u>Adolf Hitler’s concentration camps</u></b> put together.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -41.25pt;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than the fatalities
incurred by the <b><u>Soviet Union</u></b> in World War II. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than were killed in
the all the <b><u>gulags of Joseph Stalin</u></b> put together.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than were
slaughtered in the <b><u>killing fields of Cambodia by the Khmer Rouge</u></b>.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than were killed in
the <b><u>Iran-Iraq War (1980 – 1988)</u></b>.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -41.25pt;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than were killed in
the <b><u>French Revolution</u></b> and the <b><u>Napoleonic
Wars</u></b>—put together.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -41.25pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -41.25pt;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than were killed by
the <b><u>Mongol hoards of Genghis Khan</u></b>. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than were killed by
the <b><u>Roman legions of the Caesars</u></b>. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More <b><u>than
double</u></b> the fatalities of <b><u>World War I (1914 – 1918)</u></b>,
where 14 million people were killed.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12pt;">Ø</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">More than were killed
in <b><u>every single military conflict in the history of the world</u></b>,
with the only possible exception of World War II, where 55 million fatalities
resulted.</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> What
is the point of this email? <b><u>It is simply to tell you that you
are a moral failure, a coward, and a fraud</u></b>. <b><u>More
people have died from AIDS than were lost by all the warmongers, lunatics,
racist bigots and totalitarian regimes I have mentioned</u></b>. <b><u>These
body count numbers have mocked you for eternity</u></b>. Why is it
that the media seldom mentions anything about the AIDS fatalities in North
America? If you feel that you need to censor the body count,
then you’re the one who has the problem. You are fooling nobody. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> All
of the defense contractors that make up the military industrial complex in
America and all of their weapons put together, do not kill off anything
comparable to the global body count numbers produced from
AIDS. I find it hard to believe that God up above agrees with
you. If you find these body count numbers disturbing, then maybe you
had better re-evaluate what you believe in. <b><u>Are you</u></b><u> <b>really
on the right side of history?</b></u> Sexually transmitted diseases
have been infecting and killing people for centuries. You cannot
blame politicians, lawmakers and religious leaders for the existence and spread
of AIDS. The historical evidence does not support
you. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> You
would have to realize that the casualties from AIDS are rather
high. Yet, you pretend that there is nothing wrong. You
try to bulldoze your way through circumstances and impose your will on others
without considering the morality of your actions, and then you play stupid,
wondering why there are those who do not agree with you. Is it really
that hard to figure out why there are people who don’t agree with
you? <b><u>Professor McMillen-Oakley, would you ever share these
AIDS statistics with your students, fellow educators, friends and family
members? If not, why not? Do you want people to see the
big waste of human life that has resulted? Why should people respect
your views? Are you really making progress?</u></b> </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> There
are so many different strains of HIV that scientists have given up trying to
count all of them. <b><u>What about the new strains of HIV that cannot
be stopped?</u></b> You cannot <b><u>legislate</u></b> your way
out of this problem. You cannot <b><u>interpret</u></b> your
way out. You cannot <b><u>vote</u></b> your way out. You
cannot <b><u>protest</u></b> your way out. You cannot<b><u>scream</u></b> your
way out. You cannot <b><u>bully</u></b> your way
out. You cannot <b><u>demand</u></b> your way
out. You cannot <b><u>manipulate</u></b> your way
out. <b><u>Public opinion polls</u></b> cannot get you
out. <b><u>Celebrity endorsements</u></b> cannot get you
out. <b><u>Hiding the casualties</u></b> won’t stop the spread
of HIV. The genie is out of the bottle and cannot be put back
in. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> You
would like to portray yourself as a moderate, a centrist, a person of reason, a
forward- looking person, a person who is sophisticated, or some other kind of
enlightened intellectual. If you think that everybody sees it your
way, you are seriously deluded. You don’t occupy any moral high
ground. You are not a superior alternative. You are not
the lesser of the evils. You do not stand for common sense, reason,
or logic. If you think that you are making progress, I wouldn’t want
to be in your shoes when you start claiming you are having a
setback. <b><u>You are living in your own Fuhrerbunker, the victim
of your own perverted groupthink mentality—blind to the reality around you.</u></b> </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> <b><u>History
has shown us that people who ignore the morality of their conduct, who ignore
their conscience, whose ideology is bankrupt, and who ignore the consequences
of their choices—are destined to fail</u></b>. Why are there people
who oppose same-sex marriage? Why are there people who do not
respect your views? Why do people disagree with your so-called
“progressive” morality? Why are there people who do not see things
your way? <b><u>I suggest you look at the AIDS-related casualties</u></b>. Then
you’ll find the answer. </span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Sincerely,</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Luke Richardson</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">New York City</span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-62787663193719212982014-12-10T12:56:00.001-05:002014-12-10T12:56:15.582-05:00Misfits of the World UNITE!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ5ICt7iPBIcEwSaca-7iYMweUYn4Xp8Qu7HeL89hyLFtdd3vUTkFiPjOyroKzQmCDmpmzy1FFm9-8n4Bmlc-dfS-jHkw1NkngQ2VzDbRa9JADzUj2pf6q1T1NpEUtPGI-yjZ2OLMDirQ/s1600/yukon_cornelius_pick_ax_silver_and_gold_rudolph.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ5ICt7iPBIcEwSaca-7iYMweUYn4Xp8Qu7HeL89hyLFtdd3vUTkFiPjOyroKzQmCDmpmzy1FFm9-8n4Bmlc-dfS-jHkw1NkngQ2VzDbRa9JADzUj2pf6q1T1NpEUtPGI-yjZ2OLMDirQ/s1600/yukon_cornelius_pick_ax_silver_and_gold_rudolph.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Fearless Leader: Yukon Cornelius</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">This is a re-post from December 2010. </span><i style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">From the Island of Misfit Toys</i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Author’s note: Each year,
living in the state of Michigan gets more and more difficult. Laws that have
been enacted are purposely hurting my family, and perhaps even my own
well-being. Recently, the Michigan Legislature approved a <a href="http://goo.gl/6BePNJ." target="_blank">law</a> that would allow
medical workers serving in the public sector the ability to deny care to
someone they perceive to be gay. </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> A rabid anti-gay pastor (and total closet-case)
in Arizona recently called for the end of the AIDS crisis by Christmas, his
solution, <a href="http://goo.gl/tYfN4V" target="_blank">execute</a> all the gays. Yes, you read that right, a CHRISTIAN minister
said that we could end the AIDS epidemic by rounding up and executing all the
gays. </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">My little family remains
strong, as we have a strong support system of friends and family in the state
and around the globe. However, it’s stuff like this that make me die a little
inside when I read about them. So raise your fist, your paw, your hoof (or
whatever) in solidarity for misfits all over the world this holiday season.
Together we can survive. TAM-O<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Ever since I can remember, I have loved the Christmas special <i>Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer</i>. We both
premiered in 1964 and the show features two of my favorite things: burly
redheads and St. Bernard dogs. The show
is a classic on many levels. I have noticed that a lot of my LGBT friends love
the show as well, and I think it’s because of its endearing story and great
characters. But there is more than that. It tells the tale of a group of
outsiders, or misfits, as they are known in the show. For many of us; it
paralleled our own lives as LGBT men and women, especially our childhood. I
remember hating gym in school, and the coach reindeer at the beginning of the
show mirrored exactly what I endured with all my misguided gym teachers through
elementary school. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Hermey, the fey and dentally fixated elf, pines for a better life as a
dentist somewhere other than the North Pole while Yukon (the inspiration for
our dog’s name) lives as an outsider in the great, white north. And then there
is the Island of Misfit Toys. So much of that concept connects with me, because
when AIDS first came out in the 80s, the ultra-conservatives talked about
rounding up and isolating the gays, so that the disease wouldn’t spread. For a
long time, as a young man, I worried that I might end up on my own little
island due to who I loved and my misconceived status as a misfit because I was
gay. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">But, like in the show, the misfits band together and make their own
family, one born out of rejection and hatred but ultimately joined in love. Our
friend Michelle once sent us a Christmas card that read “friends are the family
you chose.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">I agree! With all the current talk of bullying and harassment, this
holiday show has a great message of acceptance and unconditional love. I may be
a misfit in some people’s eyes, but I am a happy misfit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-28858757499996453982014-11-25T11:02:00.001-05:002014-11-25T11:02:46.148-05:00Goodbye to a Christmas Tradition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCkHs4NDwRJFpywlDfOFp8vMY9SStspn0vmMWvCFEePHTACa83Hd1H-0OnQVp8MYNX4CJUHHR46o7gHvoUkDqmu0KoDBIkrrbn5WzVnjBpg0wknOoCB5WxiYI6FAVg2poQEi6czkKcSzk/s1600/ELF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCkHs4NDwRJFpywlDfOFp8vMY9SStspn0vmMWvCFEePHTACa83Hd1H-0OnQVp8MYNX4CJUHHR46o7gHvoUkDqmu0KoDBIkrrbn5WzVnjBpg0wknOoCB5WxiYI6FAVg2poQEi6czkKcSzk/s1600/ELF.jpg" height="249" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
The very year that Anna dropped, another mischievous
creature came into our lives as well. Thankfully, this creature, Krewfie, <s>is</s>
was only with us for about four weeks a year. Yes, in 2005, the “Elf on the
Shelf: A Christmas Tradition” was thrust upon the public and the merchants
rejoiced. I have nothing against traditions, I have nothing against books as we
have many Christmas/winter themed books and I have nothing against elves.
Hermey the elf in “Rudolph” remains one of my favorites. However, with this
book come great responsibilities, responsibilities that are often just too much
to take over the holiday season. The gleeful day your progeny receive said elf,
the must name it, and vow never to touch it. EVER! If the elf is touched in any
manner by the children, his (I have yet to see a girl elf) powers will be
zapped and once again, Christmas will be ruined, but not by a drunk family
member. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As the story of the elf unfolds, your children will go from
being pie-eyed and enthralled with its magic to realizing that Jimmy the Snitch
has just moved in for the season. Yes, the elf is Santa’s top informant. The
elf returns to the North Pole each night to talk to the Big Guy about the kids’
behavior, so you better be good for goodness sake! Not only are the kids now
worried about Santa seeing them when they are sleeping they have to worry about
this little troll too. It’s the NSA of the North Pole. I think many parents
secretly hope that their elf will make the kids Santa’s bitch and they will do
whatever it takes to please the big guy. At least that’s what they hope. Our
elf, “Krewfie” (rhymes with roofie) worked for a bit, but as faithful readers
will recall, the whole plan <a href="http://jesushas2daddies.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-own-war-on-christmas-2011-update.html" target="_blank">backfired</a> and we ended up scrapping the elf for the
sake of sanity. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br /><div class="MsoNormal">
And in the time since that first post about the elf,
Pinterest came around which begat the posts on Facebook and other social media
showcasing how you could create an entire month of magic (!) a sense of Christmas wonder (!)
special family memories (!) and deplete your time, wallet, and energy (!) with these
precious/precocious elf set ups. Yes, questionably sane parents will create an
entire month’s worth of scenarios to set up after their kids go to bed each
night and even post pics of their elaborately decorated calendars to prove it.
These ideas range in complexity from super simple: <i>put the elf on the tree</i> to what-the-fuck-were-you-thinking: <i>stage snowball fights between your kids’
toys and the elf using powdered sugar and marshmallows on the table for a funny
holiday surprise!</i> The surprise will be that you’ll be late for work that
day because the cat will get on the table at night and roll in the powdered
sugar like David Lee Roth at a hotel room party circa 1983 and you’ll be stuck
chasing it and your sugar-fueled children around the house while you attempt to
clean up the mess and head out the door to be on time for school and work. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To quote Sweet Brown, “ain’t nobody got time for that!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Seriously, the holiday season is stressful enough without
one more goddamned thing to worry about. I remember waking up in a panic one
night as I couldn’t remember Tod moving the elf to show that he had gone to see
Santa that night. Each night before we secured our CPAPS, we’d ask, “did you
move the elf?” No wonder my blood pressure is high. So we are going to have “the talk” with the kids this year
and tell them that due to layoffs in the North Pole, Krewfie is going to sit
this year out and just hang out in Jackson this season (thanks Obama!). We’ll
bring him out and place him with the myriad of other holiday decorations and
just let him be. Anna is very close to the age where disbelief sets in, and I
am okay with that. Eli is still infatuated with Ho Ho so we may have a few more
years with him that is if Anna keeps quiet. It will be interesting to see how
this holiday season goes. We’ll continue
with our other holiday traditions such as visiting Marshall, MI for their
annual Holiday event, going to the D for carriage rides around the city, Nite
Lights at the fairgrounds, visiting our families, and staying close to home on
Christmas Eve and day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sanity is a gift, a gift which is often overlooked at
Christmas. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-28889417364905131262014-11-18T20:37:00.000-05:002014-11-18T20:39:04.165-05:00Holiday Gift Ideas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1kUJms_b6WCFTYhlPfKm33lDkYn6stJB7Bbc0yPUswnSwRGlaFBIoN-dY_yxMRRsv2tc7dhST9zKN_d7yZHXLJtaJHHu3WnTNDlCCr3sfAwP6Zvgu9unYfN4IcKgG8GzzuXreCpIxbL8/s1600/10171750_10152180092958842_1057415809328316534_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1kUJms_b6WCFTYhlPfKm33lDkYn6stJB7Bbc0yPUswnSwRGlaFBIoN-dY_yxMRRsv2tc7dhST9zKN_d7yZHXLJtaJHHu3WnTNDlCCr3sfAwP6Zvgu9unYfN4IcKgG8GzzuXreCpIxbL8/s1600/10171750_10152180092958842_1057415809328316534_n.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The holidays are approaching and it’s time to buy gifts for
all those special people in your life. Are you looking to expedite the death of
a cranky, elderly, ultra-conservative family member? Why not consider buying my
book to help speed up the process? The totally true story of a girl raised by
two women who chose two gay guys to raise her kid is enough to send that Fox
News watching Reaganite into cardiac arrest. Hell, the title alone, <b><i>Jesus
Has 2 Daddies </i></b>is enough to push that aging papist in your life to an
eternity with Pope John Paul and Ronnie himself. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You can also watch your
virulent homophobic family member choke on our love as the book tells the tale
of our LEGAL gay/homo/sodomite marriage that took place in SAN FRAN-FUCKING-CISCO
the very year that that Muslim fellow took office. The closeted bible-thumper at
your holiday table will clutch their pearls (and possibly strangle themselves)
when they read that we were allowed to adopt not one, but TWO precious little
angels of Jesus and lead them into our seedy lifestyle. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why not make the holidays brighter and do your family a
favor? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You can find the book here: <a href="https://www.createspace.com/4404757">https://www.createspace.com/4404757</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Kindle version is here: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Jesus-Has-Daddies-Thomas-McMillen-Oakley/dp/1938110048">http://www.amazon.com/Jesus-Has-Daddies-Thomas-McMillen-Oakley/dp/1938110048</a>,
but we all know how much they hate that internet stuff. Thanks Al Gore!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you really want to piss them off, you can also buy the
book at the Ella Sharp Museum’s Friends Gift Store. They’ll choke on the fact
that this venerable institution is supporting our sodomite “lifestyle” and is
selling the book out IN THE OPEN! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You can also stop by Common Language Bookstore in Ann Arbor
and support the Westboro Baptist fighting homos Keith and Martin and their
alleged commie bookstore. Not sure what the inventory is like, but hey, you can
also stock up on lube and porn if needed while you’re there.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From our family to yours, all the best this holiday season.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tom, Tod, Anna, and Eli.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-21010150680566917832014-07-31T08:04:00.000-04:002014-07-31T08:04:20.970-04:00Beards, Beers, and Queers: Pitching our reality show<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Apparently beards and beer are the new thing for reality TV.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We've all heard of Duck Dynasty, and sadly, when Tod and I
go out in public with our bearded brethren, we are often accused of being
extras or wannabes for the next season. <a href="http://www.zazzle.com/pogonophile_love_of_beard_tee_shirt-235145720845816444" target="_blank">Pogonophiles</a> will hover around and try
to steal touches of our facial hair. Or, those channeling our mothers will
offer their two cents on how we SHOULD be maintaining our facial hair and
suggest places to get it trimmed. In light of all the <a href="http://popwatch.ew.com/2014/05/23/duck-dynasty-phil-robertson-antigay-sermon-video/" target="_blank">homophobic</a> crap the Duck
assholes have said, I politely decline and move on when questioned by unknown passersby.
Recently, Dark Horse Brewing in Marshall, MI (25 miles to the west of us)
launched a reality show of their own called Dark Horse Nation on the History
Channel. (<a href="http://goo.gl/qlErtY">http://goo.gl/qlErtY</a>). We were a
bit confused when we went there this spring with some friends and saw warning
signs all over the property alerting us to the fact that we might end up on TV
should we venture into the specified areas. I diligently checked my fly after
each bathroom trip and made sure to behave even though the beers were
flowing. After all, who wants to see a
sloppy drunk professor with their fly down? We love the brewery, and as you can
tell, it’s a regular stop on our beer quests throughout the Mitten. Their space
is awesome, the food is great, and their beer never fails to delight. We will
pay top dollar for a DD to go and visit the brewery on date night or just to
hang out. It’s that kind of space. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our newspaper has been pimping the show constantly since the
premier date was released, and the beard comments have once again started
flying. “Dude, you should totallllly check out that show on the History Channel
about the beer guys. BEARDS AND BEEER MAN!” We scored a sitter for the kids this
past weekend and we went to the Michigan Brewer’s Guild Beer Fest in Ypsilanti,
MI. The event is usually a cluster fuck of excruciating hipsters wearing Bill
Murray tees and top knots, and this year was no exception. However, the Dark
Horse booth was the E Ticket of the night and many of the hipsters were giving
up their indie cred to bow at the temple of fame. Their lines stretched well
into the crowd of revelers and they continually flung tees from the top of
their set up to the eager crowds. This was great for all of us who weren’t
sucked in by their new found celebrity as the lines for the other area
breweries were much shorter, <a href="http://chelseaalehouse.com/" target="_blank">Chelsea Ale House</a>, we’re looking at you!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, with the current trend of bearded anything making a
splash on TV, we are going to push our own reality series called “Here comes Dark
Duck Boo Boo: Michigan.” It’s the story of two gay dads, one who loves IPAs and
pale ales and his husband who is always on the hunt for the perfect stout or
porter in the Murder Mitten. Yes, it’s true opposites do attract, especially
when it comes to two dads and two different kinds of beer. You don’t have to
worry about the other one stealing your brews from the beer fridge. Throw in
our two precocious children and this will be ratings gold. Anna will be there
for the glam factor and, seeing as she is such an ingénue any songs or musical
interludes will be choreographed and sung by her. Eli will bring the drama and
the humor at the same time each week. Soon, the whole world will have their own
“Moments of Eli” to talk about at the water cooler. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, if there are any agents out there, this is our pitch.
Two dads, two kids, on the hunt for the perfect stout. We promise we’ll make it
interesting. Just buy us the beer. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Let's do the math:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl0nPN2KyH2uAzaQ8sJb5Av_otmzLQUdCJfZfDVCPlTT6KN7HidnnqeP4EC_RquCW-J6yP3DjT8DIp1QRmt4gk7tU3WpuHCAuyuPF9EcQuUXb-wVKogdExwkgdkFO0_WhzpmqiDbIfTa0/s1600/10491983_10152345889308842_5679726877987279859_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl0nPN2KyH2uAzaQ8sJb5Av_otmzLQUdCJfZfDVCPlTT6KN7HidnnqeP4EC_RquCW-J6yP3DjT8DIp1QRmt4gk7tU3WpuHCAuyuPF9EcQuUXb-wVKogdExwkgdkFO0_WhzpmqiDbIfTa0/s1600/10491983_10152345889308842_5679726877987279859_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two Dads</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRw4sy_5AV15DWtjfF3CV13NIE0Us4VOAMKnwy7GeUV0pcR_eB8Nhf7FiJUqTp-i1zvSrsG-pfmOGCqwyd7FKKnPWwyhHM9DSb2qqCFefA2tML5bHjGIqOWBD6myJ_yJXkyGP4xrd1B4o/s1600/122213_Buzz_Duck_640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRw4sy_5AV15DWtjfF3CV13NIE0Us4VOAMKnwy7GeUV0pcR_eB8Nhf7FiJUqTp-i1zvSrsG-pfmOGCqwyd7FKKnPWwyhHM9DSb2qqCFefA2tML5bHjGIqOWBD6myJ_yJXkyGP4xrd1B4o/s1600/122213_Buzz_Duck_640.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plus rockin' facial hair</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSrG3kk8m60G6gXuOSPuLmGBDk4s2VMGfQBWFuiR-8WqHEK03JgLhmcbgHehMTd-D5VsCWN5x1_xYU_jksIxUNCm8DpmFC4SqLY73TLZWJnRvMbRcOGmgH-FhMPVUXQZYT6P5aJWhjNFw/s1600/Dark_Horse_Nation_About_the_Series_2-E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSrG3kk8m60G6gXuOSPuLmGBDk4s2VMGfQBWFuiR-8WqHEK03JgLhmcbgHehMTd-D5VsCWN5x1_xYU_jksIxUNCm8DpmFC4SqLY73TLZWJnRvMbRcOGmgH-FhMPVUXQZYT6P5aJWhjNFw/s1600/Dark_Horse_Nation_About_the_Series_2-E.jpeg" height="179" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Minus the homophobia and bible thumping</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQ00Dg2CRF0lgksSGDbxiNzhcLWFLPkMr6x9nVKET5nsjjjySjqYaNhtMUhKG6NxJ69HiJ9CO-h8oJvv7TiWK8L9CtncATtrAnPxGoktlbBWRjViuljWfmDG3OXqnBy-EziocZ8SiSE8/s1600/10413298_10152345889648842_3031783591446424696_n.jpg" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="212" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add Two Kids</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQ00Dg2CRF0lgksSGDbxiNzhcLWFLPkMr6x9nVKET5nsjjjySjqYaNhtMUhKG6NxJ69HiJ9CO-h8oJvv7TiWK8L9CtncATtrAnPxGoktlbBWRjViuljWfmDG3OXqnBy-EziocZ8SiSE8/s1600/10413298_10152345889648842_3031783591446424696_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGixXxE8R_nhtwauP0-M_G10PAPSZ0Nm-Tt_tj3IZN6y3MpMTs1_ZuMzA6vtC91M72Oa1CBYnaB_dvoN6TncQgEb_4_VDbC8CDXxuOplaqxE6WvsWB8IbISyAXFgmRrOou8ZDYfqwFhTI/s1600/485894_10151406655346679_624804507_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGixXxE8R_nhtwauP0-M_G10PAPSZ0Nm-Tt_tj3IZN6y3MpMTs1_ZuMzA6vtC91M72Oa1CBYnaB_dvoN6TncQgEb_4_VDbC8CDXxuOplaqxE6WvsWB8IbISyAXFgmRrOou8ZDYfqwFhTI/s1600/485894_10151406655346679_624804507_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add Beer</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGYV56O8z7ErD1luoYLBKgAhdcZRpYvjvmuNlHq9Z5sB1IIcrgBqciBto0I9UwJfLH99XhgYOxfURrEto6E28Hz6ebAC0SmsCuGUiVWwCCyknjVP8tGvj8B097DVMJpkHl1tkpAmq6PAA/s1600/emmy_award_trophy_statue_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGYV56O8z7ErD1luoYLBKgAhdcZRpYvjvmuNlHq9Z5sB1IIcrgBqciBto0I9UwJfLH99XhgYOxfURrEto6E28Hz6ebAC0SmsCuGUiVWwCCyknjVP8tGvj8B097DVMJpkHl1tkpAmq6PAA/s1600/emmy_award_trophy_statue_01.jpg" height="320" width="230" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's your Emmy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-52020501511773261012014-05-06T16:29:00.001-04:002014-05-06T16:36:51.033-04:00An update on the book<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVXnm3jfB6l_1qgCRmrmh8-yWEQfKVMlpXaJan3ny0oOsQ9k4h9XotxcYaX-dEM3dNT1GzFEUxFcLzzf6efP37RiwqYAHiSH5Gw6IJUxCJspG-f3vUdbNUIcpJKU9Ii8dlidtvfA3YQqY/s1600/602694_10151372745593842_1510565344_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVXnm3jfB6l_1qgCRmrmh8-yWEQfKVMlpXaJan3ny0oOsQ9k4h9XotxcYaX-dEM3dNT1GzFEUxFcLzzf6efP37RiwqYAHiSH5Gw6IJUxCJspG-f3vUdbNUIcpJKU9Ii8dlidtvfA3YQqY/s1600/602694_10151372745593842_1510565344_n.jpg" height="320" width="238" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back in December of 2012, my book, “Jesus has two Daddies”
was published by 2 Moon Press in Marshall, MI. The process was fraught with
delays and issues with the formatting of the digital version. Little did I know
that the business was sold and is now no longer publishing or distributing. The
dealings were rather shady and there is currently a lawsuit being brought forth
by a group of us angry authors. While I was able to secure a good supply of my
printed book, the Kindle version was never in my control. The formatting issues
were never fixed, nor did I ever see a profit/royalty check from the publisher,
even though many digital copies were sold.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You can find the new and improved, (and under my control)
book here:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://www.createspace.com/4404757" target="_blank">https://www.createspace.com/4404757</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You can also find it on Kindle here: <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E4UD1TE">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E4UD1TE</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you’d like a signed copy, please email me at <a href="mailto:taoakley@gmail.com">taoakley@gmail.com</a> and we can talk details.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thanks!<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">
</span>Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-31201729432159297832014-03-26T21:24:00.001-04:002014-03-26T21:34:51.672-04:00Preach it Tod! <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLEvTcWvmxJF3cN77IL1bMyGTacRbjVEVQDySoYFaIDTshc5Gy3Lj_1XFydAb9oFcD4QC6VfoaNCa8t5bybwLm4RlJInPTBgBcbmrjdwXLUmhsvIlp0n4HHy4f5wSNMwIRBgM-ZdOWNQY/s1600/DSCN9885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLEvTcWvmxJF3cN77IL1bMyGTacRbjVEVQDySoYFaIDTshc5Gy3Lj_1XFydAb9oFcD4QC6VfoaNCa8t5bybwLm4RlJInPTBgBcbmrjdwXLUmhsvIlp0n4HHy4f5wSNMwIRBgM-ZdOWNQY/s1600/DSCN9885.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal">
My man posted this on his Facebook page and it has been
shared all over the place.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I thought I would post it here for all those that are not on
Facebook or didn't see it. It’s worth sharing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Okay, I get that some of you believe homosexuality is wrong
because the Bible tells you so.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What I don't understand is why you feel the need to
legislate your religious beliefs on this issue?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do you honestly in your heart, mind, and soul believe that
by legislating your religious beliefs that homosexuals will suddenly say, "Oh,
gee, I guess I shouldn't be homosexual any more"?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why is this your key issue? Jesus and Paul both made it
really clear in the Bible that if you get a divorce and then marry someone else
you are an adulterer, why don't you legislate only one marriage certificate per
lifetime?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why do your religious laws have to apply to someone that
doesn't practice your religion?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One final question, why are you one of my contacts, if you
honestly believe that your belief in the Bible gives you the right to ban my
marriage or Tom McMillen-Oakley from adopting our children, PLEASE DELETE ME
NOW!"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There’s a reason I married this guy, he’s not afraid to
speak his mind.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Preach Tod, preach!<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<span class="textexposedshow"><span style="background: white; color: #37404e; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-61634746205994040402014-03-22T08:38:00.001-04:002014-03-22T08:38:10.709-04:00Wedding bells, ringing in the past and today<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGuDgpVniQNAoFNLGfKhv50mC2aLbYdzOYpZlyDQUwuBsm7f-2dcBZh3gTIW7YezXUBHESWiJJf_eESfgGAmPaunpwlTAF2aXG5g8w-Im5oxkJZesOchlSx2IKG1opWUP7pT7XPMfyfk/s1600/166777_10151404521088842_1181660082_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGuDgpVniQNAoFNLGfKhv50mC2aLbYdzOYpZlyDQUwuBsm7f-2dcBZh3gTIW7YezXUBHESWiJJf_eESfgGAmPaunpwlTAF2aXG5g8w-Im5oxkJZesOchlSx2IKG1opWUP7pT7XPMfyfk/s1600/166777_10151404521088842_1181660082_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Us in California in 2008</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tod and I took a chance back in 2008 when we got married in
California. To many of our friends and family, our commitment ceremony done in
our backyard in 2001 was the best we could hope for in this backwards state of
Michigan. In 2004, the “will of the people” prevailed and gay marriage was
banned in MI. There have been several cases brought forward regarding this, but
the most recent case DeBoer vs. Snyder was the one that ultimately toppled this
unfair, unjust, and unconstitutional law. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we flew to California in August of 2008, we told very
few people, because we knew that once we returned home it would mean nothing. We
didn't want the naysayers to try and talk us out of this rather expensive, and
what appeared at the time to be futile undertaking. But we wanted to be married, and California
was one of the first states to allow residents from other states to marry
without a residency requirement. Plus, we had rock-star DJ (and great friend)
Jeb Edwards marry us. Flash forward to fall and Prop 8 put a temporary hold on
our marriage for over a year, once again, the will of the people. The will of
some heavily funded outsiders and religious groups (Catholics and Mormons…
lookin’ at you) who really had no business meddling in my personal life and the
personal lives of so many others. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But once again, we prevailed. Prop 8 was struck down; it
went through many challenges, but in the end our vows, spoken in San Francisco’s
City Hall near the bust of Harvey Milk remained intact. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today, gay couples are lining up on this grey and cold
Michigan morning to get married all over the state. Tod and I already are, and
we can stay home and celebrate what took place six years ago in San Fran knowing
that it is finally legal here in Michigan. Yes, this is about us dammit. It’s
about us as a couple, it’s about us as a family, and it’s about us and our kids
and what we can offer them as parents. Call us Groomzillas, but yeah, it’s all about
us. While we won’t be donning our crazy pink vests today, we will look at our
rings and marriage certificate and know that we made the right choice back in
2008. Our thanks to everyone involved and finally made this happen. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXYII-IEJKHUgGJv43RcrHUmYcWDy80ao4aS7m5TrijbSOHWcR9QlAMdRtWpyT3Sw5NdCo5ozMn4Y3dP1T_3y0pGD21Q7-v4ZrBUD_SN7wfmQsn0s8ZCBWacANCYLg_aJHGoY7R4dxfU/s1600/1469743_10152099491883842_2017316689_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXYII-IEJKHUgGJv43RcrHUmYcWDy80ao4aS7m5TrijbSOHWcR9QlAMdRtWpyT3Sw5NdCo5ozMn4Y3dP1T_3y0pGD21Q7-v4ZrBUD_SN7wfmQsn0s8ZCBWacANCYLg_aJHGoY7R4dxfU/s1600/1469743_10152099491883842_2017316689_n.jpg" height="319" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Us with the plaintiffs last night in Ann Arbor. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You can read Judge Friedman’s scathing ruling, and judicial
bitch slap to Snyder and Schuette over their defense of this archaic law here: <a href="https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/1094703-friedman-ruling.html">https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/1094703-friedman-ruling.html</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-78137331251836047822014-03-20T15:42:00.002-04:002014-03-20T16:19:55.601-04:00A note on the death of Fred Phelps<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHOGtrtgsqlX7F81LPmyjBudooUnCE0ufhC_hg3_OUZ-tloMm2Oh2ygZ9G59Gt-VZ0YesQhmUY2XyBuPwyLMNE0GjWaEB6PGNeHKeQ-xtkCB9GWgbpEcxXl8mXHV7MGyAo89kkT69Kcg/s1600/Fred-Phelps-image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHOGtrtgsqlX7F81LPmyjBudooUnCE0ufhC_hg3_OUZ-tloMm2Oh2ygZ9G59Gt-VZ0YesQhmUY2XyBuPwyLMNE0GjWaEB6PGNeHKeQ-xtkCB9GWgbpEcxXl8mXHV7MGyAo89kkT69Kcg/s1600/Fred-Phelps-image.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This was originally written over 10 years ago. I found it in
my hard drive and thought it would be worth sharing with the recent news of
Phelp’s death. I don’t really remember what the genesis was for this, or who it
was written for… but I do know that at the time, my thoughts on him and his work
were quite different than they were today. As an artist, I support free speech,
even if it’s hateful. This doesn't sit well with some of my friends and
colleagues but I support it. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t agree with it, but I
support his right to share his thoughts, even if they are hateful and
ill-timed. And my views on religion have changed as well. Back then, we were
going to church and I had an active prayer life. Now, we focus on our family
and instead of sitting around talking to God in our heads. I am just happy I was able to outlive him and his hatred. Our rainbow flag is flying a little brighter today. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here is the letter:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Dear Reverend Phelps,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I was praying to God
the other night, and asked Him to help me understand all the evils that are
currently plaguing our world. I couldn’t
understand why such a benevolent creator would put such hateful and ungodly
folks on this planet, and have them do work in His good name. Then it dawned on
me…<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I immediately thanked
God for this revelation, and ended my prayer to write this letter to you. I did
some searching on the Internet, and found that in all the places that you and
your congregation gather to protest, there is a great deal of love and
outpouring of support for LGBT people and issues. Often times, there had been no support
before, but with the advent of your protests, people rally and come together,
united in their intolerance for hatred and narrow minds. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>You are doing God’s
work, bringing people together to support LGBT concerns. Look at all the money the folks in Ann Arbor
raised when you were there!(see link) They couldn’t have done that without your
help. Other communities are beginning to
use this method as well… making your protest pay off for other causes. It’s a win/win situation for all the groups. You get your protest, and they get the
money. The longer you protest, the more they
make. What a great plan!<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>And look at Ferndale,
MI where you recently did your thing. The city really didn’t have a focus or
any kind of support for LGBT supporters.
But once you announced you were coming, groups formed, support networks
cropped up, and the whole city united against you and your message of hatred. And
just in time for the holidays. Without
you in Ferndale, this new community wouldn’t have happened. You really should have worn a bow that day,
as this was a great present to this community!<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Thank you Reverend
Phelps and thanks you to your congregation as well. You are doing God’s work, spreading His love
and understanding, whether you realize it or not. I now understand why you were put on this
planet. You are the galvanizer of
communities and causes. Where you wish
to disband and protest, you instead create support and understanding. Your little message of hatred spawns a
greater message of love and Christian understanding.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Now when I pray, I
thank my God each night for you and your congregation, and ask that He support
you in your unintentional cause. You have much work to do Fred, you aren’t
getting any younger. Go out there and spread
God’s word!<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>God Bless you Fred!<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
More here: <a href="http://autbar.com/fred_phelps_press_release.htm">http://autbar.com/fred_phelps_press_release.htm</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-67108885477446861492014-03-04T12:58:00.001-05:002014-03-04T12:58:52.988-05:00It's us! ON THE NEWS!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin_RD0p8Tz3y2DZoUxl4rZVvu6lKysX1A4h-UJcBxR1mnxq-MUXIZjd1R3TocJoGuC7i0kOFOS1QngpUuuIBG0PKmUHxlbr6Adg0rWaVlkv_b1LnvlA-ZK5pa8FOxZoK9gHNEzEXTqy1s/s1600/gay_marriage1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin_RD0p8Tz3y2DZoUxl4rZVvu6lKysX1A4h-UJcBxR1mnxq-MUXIZjd1R3TocJoGuC7i0kOFOS1QngpUuuIBG0PKmUHxlbr6Adg0rWaVlkv_b1LnvlA-ZK5pa8FOxZoK9gHNEzEXTqy1s/s1600/gay_marriage1.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Meant to post this link last week, but in the rush up to Spring Break, I forgot.<br />
We were interviewed Monday night and the segment aired that evening and Tuesday morning.<br />
The trial continues, and should be wrapped up by Friday. It appears that the judge will NOT rule on Friday, so who knows how much longer this will take.<br />
Here is the link to our story on WILX<br />
<br />
http://www.wilx.com/home/headlines/Michigans-Gay-Marriage-Ban-Heads-to-Trial-Tuesday-246993881.html<br />
<br />Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-21580449831062399252014-01-25T09:15:00.000-05:002014-01-25T09:15:50.118-05:00Stuck in Jackson: where the photo came from<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy79rDIHOGyrY0LR6vS_y0dpB25uVaPrZyaq_34UtGyqO9D5QG7B0R6sjACEQ6pMFBoDM8f8h0EFFK2fKLyaLEmQDPKLKhZuDQbV6dZYtQF0jlevL_FQGpAu0gjreSUgNp8ZpW9wLwhhI/s1600/stuck+in+jackson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy79rDIHOGyrY0LR6vS_y0dpB25uVaPrZyaq_34UtGyqO9D5QG7B0R6sjACEQ6pMFBoDM8f8h0EFFK2fKLyaLEmQDPKLKhZuDQbV6dZYtQF0jlevL_FQGpAu0gjreSUgNp8ZpW9wLwhhI/s1600/stuck+in+jackson.jpg" height="326" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stuck in Jackson.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am always with my camera when we are out and about. With
my adoption of a smart phone, having a camera at my bidding is even more
convenient. I tell my design students to do the same, as you never know what
you might encounter when you are out doing mundane things. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We live about a mile from the <a href="http://www.co.jackson.mi.us/departments/Parks/parks_description/cascade_falls_park.asp" target="_blank">Cascades</a>, a park in town that
has a great walking trail, cool play structures and the actual Cascades: a
giant wedding cake of a waterfall built years ago. The falls are illuminated
each night during the summer and sappy music is pumped in synced to the
changing lights hidden beneath the water. If you've seen Soylent Green, you may remember the room
where the folks are brought in before they are dispatched. It featured
comfortable seating, soothing music, and pretty things to look at. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgLipzKfY7cx8a8TrI9wTSG9KbV3VqK8WSV9KY0hR4fQMF3QQKoWO7_mX4issTVmpZ90sE4qQ-zAcIXSdX1CbApr5O4J3lGOApsZX0mKM6Us1wBkZip0B47Xiz9-xJlx22yJV7PKz8pIM/s1600/SoylentGreen2_001Pyxurz.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgLipzKfY7cx8a8TrI9wTSG9KbV3VqK8WSV9KY0hR4fQMF3QQKoWO7_mX4issTVmpZ90sE4qQ-zAcIXSdX1CbApr5O4J3lGOApsZX0mKM6Us1wBkZip0B47Xiz9-xJlx22yJV7PKz8pIM/s1600/SoylentGreen2_001Pyxurz.png" height="152" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">This is the Cascades. It’s God’s waiting room.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I digress…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We were at the Cascades one evening with the kids, camera in
pocket. We began the climb to the top of the structure, we frolicked in the mist
blowing around at the top and then began the slippery descent on the other
side. When we came to one of the side pools, we heard crying and yelling coming
from the other side of the balustraud. It was then we noticed the kid with his head stuck between
the balusters. Tod immediately sprang into action and went to calm the kid down
and dislodge him; I immediately grabbed my camera and leaned in to get the
shot. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The kid was pretty upset, so it took a minute
for Tod to actually free him allowing me the chance to focus and get the shot
with my cheap pocket camera. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cruel? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perhaps. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Funny? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hells yea. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I ended up calling the pic “Stuck in Jackson” and it’s a
perfect visual metaphor for my life in this town.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’re stuck here, and we’re doing our best to get the hell
out, but things beyond our power are keeping us here. We can yell, cry, and
struggle, but that only makes it worse.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul>
<li>We live in a state where our legal marriage is not
recognized and we do not (at great expense to us) share the same benefits as
heterosexual couples.</li>
<li>We live in a state where people like Dave Agema can make
horrible comments about the LGBT community and no one seems to care.</li>
<li>We live in a city where our director of HR (Crystal Dixon)
believes that we chose to be gay and it’s not a civil right.</li>
<li>We live in a triangle where there are several abandoned or
soon to be abandoned homes, as well as several vacant lots where homes used to
be.</li>
<li>We live in one of the worst states to live in if you are in
education, as the laws enacted by the Republicans in power are decidedly
anti-teacher.</li>
</ul>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So what do we do? We begin to remedy the situation. Once Tod
got the kid calmed down, he was able to move the kid up to the area where he
originally put his head and in back him out. There are changes coming in
Michigan, slowly… and soon we may be living in a state where we recognized as a
couple. It’s a slow process, and there are things that make me want to scream
and cry, but I need to keep calm and ride this out. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Until then, I am stuck in Jackson.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-33507463877388033512014-01-24T09:25:00.000-05:002014-01-24T09:25:30.788-05:00High School Memories: A look back from 2002<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4e6Zgi7DBqizWvfpoqOfzKPzhOS5cbiG-2fT3_5bbEhsXKQo-Ij-JTi8E98XhiFVsRiFC09STiVzBFaCb0YGfbElgdupGISqYMbR7zH_7YsZS8k2-e3qTpzCOae_LM6u8K1UDscAQbOI/s1600/TOM+thru+the+years.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4e6Zgi7DBqizWvfpoqOfzKPzhOS5cbiG-2fT3_5bbEhsXKQo-Ij-JTi8E98XhiFVsRiFC09STiVzBFaCb0YGfbElgdupGISqYMbR7zH_7YsZS8k2-e3qTpzCOae_LM6u8K1UDscAQbOI/s1600/TOM+thru+the+years.jpg" height="200" width="195" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Two
Decades of Decadence: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Note:<i> There has been some robust discussions taking
place on the Facebook page from my high school graduating class and it has
brought back some rather unpleasant memories. One of my classmates recounted
the bullying he endured in high school and many thoughts I believed gone came
back to the forefront. I was a writer for the Midwest Ursine, a now defunct
online journal for the Great Lakes area which focused on Bear and Leather
culture. I wrote the article in the spring of 2002, several months prior to the
reunion and three years before we had kids. This is the edited version of the
article from 2002.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The letter came in the mail, and my hands nervously
opened the envelope. I could not believe
what I was holding. Was the awful reality of what I was about to read
true? Could it be that it had finally
come to pass? Was I really ready to read
this horrible news enclosed? The answers
came back as a resounding yes... I was being invited to my 20<sup>th</sup>
class reunion. Was I really that old?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">Could it be that 20 years have
slipped by since I glided across the stage in the field house of Whitmer High
School (home of the Panthers), eagerly accepting my diploma, and condemning my
school’s choice of maize and blue?
Really now, we were in Ohio... shouldn’t we be scarlet and gray? Yes,
the reality that I was now two decades out of high school came at me full force. I brought up this fact to one of my classes
at the college where I teach, and one of my students asked what year I
graduated (obviously not a math major) and I replied “1982”, and she perkily
responded, “Wow... that was the year I was born!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">I plan on flunking her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">Many memories came flooding back;
including the image of my smiling face in the 1982 Oracle yearbook (we will not
discuss the hair or the glasses please).
I was full of optimism and eager to get the hell out of high
school. I went to a rather large urban
school in Toledo, Ohio, so the horror stories that some of my friends who went
to small rural schools shared with me were news to me. We didn’t have a Gay/Straight Group at our
high school, we had a Thespians Club, does that count? We mockingly called it the F.F.A. of Whitmer,
“Future Faggots of America” as the membership had quite a few gay members. My
friends and I ran a small collective of homos and their supporters. We hung out
together and shared our lives with each other.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">AIDS was still out of the picture
at this time, and our future seemed bright.
If you were eighteen, you could get in to the bars in Toledo, and we did
with gusto, diving into gay culture and all that it offered with abandon. Whenever I hear Blondie’s “Rapture” I am
taken back to the Scaramouche Bar and all the glitz and pseudo-eighties glamour
it offered. “Rapture” was the first song
I ever heard in a gay bar, and it changed my life. I realized that there was a
world of music out there that didn’t involve guitars and long hair, but rather
whipped the listener into an orgasmic frenzy of movement and sound. Our parents
didn’t understand, nor did we really. We
were fledgling homos, testing the waters of what was ahead. We shared stories
of new boyfriends, crushes, and the latest music in the clubs. 12” singles were all the rage at the time,
and we snatched them up at Boogie Records or the Shed whenever we could. While our friends were jamming to the J.
Giles Band and whatever else was playing on FM 104, we were bopping about the
house to the sounds of YAZ and ABC.
Sylvester was our hero, and Donna Summers was our unofficial Diva. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">Madonna...? Who?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">In 1996, my partner and I
traveled to Washington to view the Names Project AIDS Quilt, and the awful
reality of AIDS hit home. I passed a block of names, and realized that this was
my unofficial high school reunion. Six
of the eight names were guys I grew up with or went to school with. It was all I could do to stand up right. I had moved out of Toledo several years prior
to the visit to the quilt, and had lost touch with many of my friends. Through the tears, I choked out, “so, this is
what you have been doing since high school.” We didn’t know about AIDS when we
graduated, herpes was our biggest worry, so we played, and played without a
care. It became obvious that our ignorance
had a price. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">But on to the reunion...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">A high school friend contacted me
via email once I registered at the reunion’s website, and we began an email
discussion, talking about all that we had been through. She had been friends with many of my friends,
some of whom were closeted in high school, but were now out and gay. She shared this fact with her mom, and her
mom quipped “well, that’s probably how you remained a virgin through high
school!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Yep, us homos
are good for something!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">I began searching the website for
who was coming and what they were up to now that we were adults and out in the
“real world”. I was glad to see that my
high school crush from the football team would be there, as well as his best
friend in high school. Many adolescent
fantasies were played out in my head, as I imagined what they did with each
other when they weren’t practicing football, practicing misogyny, or beating up
freshmen in the halls. Alas, my dreams of them being gay were dashed once
again, as their bios mentioned that they were happily married (no, not to each
other...) and planned on bringing their wives to the reunion. My biggest question was how would they look? </span><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">Would they have the lean,
athletic bodies that so entranced me in high school? How would they look now that they were officially
middle aged? I remember going in to an
appliance shop with my folks on a visit back to Toledo... and found that one of
the clerks was one of the football players from my class. He had always caught my eye, as he had a sexy
mustache and appeared to be rather hairy, even in high school. But as we waited for our order to come down
the chute at the store, I realized that the guy of my high school fantasies was
now an overweight sales clerk who was balding and eagerly munching his power
lunch: a bag of chips and a Big Gulp. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">Reality hit once again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;">I have gone through many changes
in the past two decades myself, and I have many painful pictures that document
every bad hair style and wacky eyewear choice.
Now my workouts have a new meaning... I want to look good come the
reunion, and I want to show the class that I have made it. I have risen above
all the crap that was high school... the names, the taunts, and the
harassment. I have become someone;
someone many thought would never materialize.
I remember my mom asking me a question shortly after I came out to her
and my father, “what do you have to live for if you are gay? There is nothing out there but pain and
disappointment.” It seems that these are
universal problems, and ones that are not exclusive to the gay community. Yes, there has been pain, and yes, there have
been disappointments... but I have survived, and I have become a better person
because of that, and I can’t wait to share that with my classmates. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-48136274258619919072014-01-06T17:14:00.000-05:002014-01-06T17:14:21.612-05:00Bearded Hipsters: From a female perspective. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjwWsL7AOoTBkrN-Hu69gBBvJeufp2vYJbY1kemyPCJeCuZ2NsxwFf2p3kXMgPGCNrbAw9nFvD8RzJfDkOZ9ZMuTtdhgCgU5Mv_gDXc_Z3UjbGGzYyQ6bRAa_ThGBAE_ummShypr2rj0/s1600/hipster2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjwWsL7AOoTBkrN-Hu69gBBvJeufp2vYJbY1kemyPCJeCuZ2NsxwFf2p3kXMgPGCNrbAw9nFvD8RzJfDkOZ9ZMuTtdhgCgU5Mv_gDXc_Z3UjbGGzYyQ6bRAa_ThGBAE_ummShypr2rj0/s1600/hipster2.jpg" height="320" width="258" /></a></div>
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<br />
This made me LOL on several occasions so I asked the author if I could share on
my blog and she said yes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Please take a moment and read this, as it is funny as hell.
Leave her a comment and tell her I sent ya. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://nickidaniels.com/2014/01/06/beardedhipsters/"><span style="color: blue;">http://nickidaniels.com/2014/01/06/beardedhipsters/</span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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This is a great tidbit from the piece: <o:p></o:p></div>
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What the fuck is going on here? Betty White has bigger balls
than you. Look, I know I sound harsh, but I’m actually trying to rein myself
in. A beard is meant to keep your face warm. Seriously, that’s it. You
guys had your warm beards so you could go out and hunt us food, and we had our
boobies with warm milk to feed the young’uns. That’s why I love beards. It is a
natural, physiological response. I want a man who can keep me safe. How did it
all get so twisted?<o:p></o:p></div>
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And, I will point out that in 2011 I rang the warning bell
for Hipsters with Food, also known as Foodsters. Alas, they have not gone away,
and have apparently multiplied. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://jesushas2daddies.blogspot.com/2011/02/hipsters-with-food-disturbing-new-trend.html"><span style="color: blue;">http://jesushas2daddies.blogspot.com/2011/02/hipsters-with-food-disturbing-new-trend.html</span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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Share the love if you dare. <o:p></o:p></div>
Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7817782342721234183.post-33953159585830644622013-08-16T05:12:00.001-04:002013-08-16T05:12:19.675-04:00Happy Birthday Madonna!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOhp5-CqyKbDJ05TtBvN1bp8PFkNRZaJkOHwIJvE1Vwfg4NS_sYPajgecNawfQGb2YOPByPfRWEtzrpQOkYL9ihD2r4yxqUjTfYDLfHqz7TwBR8tOMuaIghcD8qzxtFzt0BmTf7vqiLQ/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOhp5-CqyKbDJ05TtBvN1bp8PFkNRZaJkOHwIJvE1Vwfg4NS_sYPajgecNawfQGb2YOPByPfRWEtzrpQOkYL9ihD2r4yxqUjTfYDLfHqz7TwBR8tOMuaIghcD8qzxtFzt0BmTf7vqiLQ/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Today is
the 55<sup>th</sup> birthday of our most Holy Lady of Perpetual Ass Shaking.
Yup, Madonna Louise Veronica Ciccone turns 55 today. Madge has provided the
soundtrack to much of my life, through both the good and the bad. I adore her.
What follows is a side bar from my book that details the day we picked up our
own little Diva. Enjoy. And don’t judge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">This is
an embarrassing side note, but one that needs to be shared. I am a huge Madonna
fan and love everything she has ever done. <i>Confessions
on a Dance Floor </i>was released the day we were to get Anna. As we headed
into town to bring our daughter home, I made Tod stop by Target so I could pick
up the CD. The 20 minute drive into Toledo was filled with the thumping
retro-disco sounds of album. I figured I needed to get this listening in now as
my future had Raffi and the Wiggles penciled in for listening material. The CD
case is still in the pocket of my door, a reminder of just how gay I am. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">In case
you still aren’t convinced, I dug up this old Live Journal entry to help
convince you otherwise: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Today truly is a national <b>holiday<strong><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">. </span></strong></b>It
always is when a new Madonna CD comes out. So, a few of my students
were running to Michael's to pick up some art stuff, and since I am
stuck here until 9 tonight, I tossed one of them a $20 and asked them to
pick up <b>Hard Candy</b> for me. Yeah, I
am the gay for doing that, but hey, what's a <strong><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">true blue</span></strong> fan
to do if he has to work all day when her CD comes out? So far, I like it a
lot. It's not her typical stuff, but it had us bobbing and dancing in the
studio as we previewed it. We were all pretty much <strong><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">into
the groove</span></strong>.<br />
The remixes will probably be killer, can't wait to hear all of them. Not
sure what D.J.s are in <strong><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">vogue</span></strong> right now, but they
certainly have a lot to <strong><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">express themselves</span></strong> with then they
hear this. I hate to <strong><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">rain </span></strong>on anyone's parade, but this
truly a great work of art. Certainly not <strong><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">bedtime story</span></strong> material, as you'll
want to go and dance, but it isn't <strong><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">frozen</span></strong> in the 70s like the last
CD. I could go <strong><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">deeper and deeper </span></strong>into my
analysis, but I won't. <br />
The day that <b>Confessions on a Dance
Floor</b> dropped was the day that Anna dropped into our lives. Since we
couldn't get into the hospital until 9, we dropped by a Target
and picked it up on the way to take her home from the hospital. Years from
now, when she reads this, she'll probably end up in therapy for that...
but hey, she'll <strong><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">live to tell</span></strong>. I doubt she'll be
too <strong><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">hung up</span></strong> on the fact that I put getting Madonna
over rushing to get her from the hospital. We'll talk, but she'll
probably just say... <strong><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Papa don't preach</span></strong>.</span></i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Yup,
that gay.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Tomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12241834265530065017noreply@blogger.com1