Smilin' Jack Ruby
02-17-2004, 01:21 PM
Some of you who know me outside of CHUD, so I wanted to mention this as I'm a happy fella. I'm a bit TIRED, too, so I'm using a note I sent to a pal of mine (who was one of the first 50 to get married in Toronto last year) as a vehicle to talk about the weekend.
Dear ---,
I got engaged! Good news, eh? I know you have yet to meet ---, but thought you'd be interested to know. For Valentine's Day, we'd planned to get out of L.A. for the three-day weekend and wing up to San Francisco, but she had no idea I was going to propose. When I did at midnight on Friday the 13th asking, "So, do you want to spend our first Valentine's Day together engaged?" she said, "Yes," was shocked, loved the ring and was probably most surprised that I'd contacted her parents to ask permission, being a good southern lad.
But, the reason I'm writing was to find out your current mailing address as I picked up the Saturday Chronicle and the weekend Examiner as I figured you might want to read the local coverage of what was truly an extraordinary event going down there over the weekend.
I don't think I heard about the "legalization" of gay marriage in SF until Thursday, but then it was all over the internet, particularly places like the Drudge Report et. al., but I still wasn't sure what the legal loophole was that afforded this. I had read that the mayor, Gavin Newsom, had something to do with it - some article had mentioned that it was going on with "his blessing" - but then the same articles would quickly state that the right-wing Christian "pro-family" forces were quickly moving for an injunction. But then on Friday, of course, the courts told them they'd have to wait until next week.
The first time I realized that it was going to be quite a thing to be in San Francisco this weekend was at LAX when waiting for the same much-delayed flight as me and my femme (she's Jewish, I'm Texan, so I guess we can relate to relationships considered slightly "outside the norm"), a male couple in their nervous forties were waiting with us, ringing up on the cellphone, listening to the days events, waiting for the plane and the inevitable long lines at the courthouse. I had no idea people were "flying in" from around California, but hey, why not? I chatted with them a little about the broken-down airplane and the typical tourist commiserations, but I still hadn't found out too many particulars. When we asked if the flight might get cancelled all the way around, we were told "no way" as with the All-Star Game, there were no hotel rooms and they couldn't book us the next morning. Two hours late, we boarded and off we went.
Saturday morning, San Francisco was electric like you wouldn't believe. The local TV news was going crazy - out of their heads reporting on just how many people had lined up on Friday and were getting married. A quick soundbyte-type news report interviewed a number of the happy couples, starting with a couple of women in what must have been their fifties saying that they "never thought they'd be able to be married in their lifetime" and it was obvious that the fact that the possibility that these marriages might "go away" after a court battle just wasn't on their mind. It was Valentine's Day, after all. They interviewed some mustached-and-suit-coated protestor who had all the manners of the Grinch who dropped lines about protecting his children and "the importance of family," but then cut back to a sighing legal type on the gay rights side who countered by saying that the road to civil rights was always plagued by such folks.
We hit the town running, looking for food and wanting to get to Chinatown before the much-ballyhooed rain came (which we avoided until Sunday) and read through the Chronicle over a croissant and orange juice. I hadn't heard much about Gavin Newsom before, but he was just recently elected and NPR had some fiery interview not long ago with his main competitor, a man who felt Newsom was too young, something of a pretender and was only likely to win as the previous mayor had campaigned so hard for him. By saying that gay marriage was legal due to the sexual discrimination laws and switching "husband" and "wife" on the marriage license application to "applicant 1" and "applicant 2" simply to "be in compliance with California's sexual discrimination laws" was certainly a coy way of ingratiating himself to millions overnight (and virtually guaranteeing he will never hold a federal post). What I thought was really groovy about the mayor was that he himself officiated at the wedding of two different couples from his own staff and spent the entire weekend - alongside HUNDREDS of volunteers - helping to get more people married than probably have stormed San Francisco in decades in such a short amount of time. Photos on the front pages of all the dailies showed happy couples at City Hall, shot after shot, picture after picture, including a great snap on the front of the Chronicle with two men getting married with their babies strapped to their chests in those odd baby carriers that look like front-loaded parachutes.
Though we didn't venture into the Castro (we were on the northside and on foot - 'twould've been a hell of a walk), what was going on at City Hall was on the lips of every tourist, shop keep, cab driver and fellow diner everywhere we went. All around Fisherman's Wharf, happy couples were celebrating Valentine's Day in a city that just really seemed to be in the right spirit for the day. By having volunteers working all day with extended hours on Saturday, Sunday and Monday before the Christian groups could hit the courts with a possible injunction on Tuesday, it almost seemed too-perfect that that three-day weekend would be over Valentine's Day, even though there's probably a real historical precedent for such a line-up. Still, when munching on a sundae at Ghiradelli's and spying a newlywed couple that was walking down towards the Square with a massive entourage in tow it kept the reminders coming of what kind of day it was. That and, of course, my now-fiancee's near-constant cell ringing when one relative or friend found out about our engagement and called with a quick "mazeltov."
Before heading out to dinner, we went back to our hotel to change clothes after wandering all day (San Francisco - the Land of Calves of Steel) and found a Fetish Ball was happening in our hotel. The doorman for that party told us that the place was really popping because Prince was staying there. Well, we had a hard-won reservation for a small Italian joint in Nob Hill, so we excused ourselves and headed upstairs.
My girl - being the busy, industrious woman she is - is tethered to her workplace by a Blackberry which delivers her e-mails remotely wherever she is. For the first time, that was a boon. A friend of ours from here in L.A., Mikko (a fantastic cook who should start a restaurant when he tires of screenwriting), had written an "all call" e-mail out to his entire e-mail address list announcing that he and his long-time partner Ari and he had raced up from Los Angeles and gotten married the day before. While waiting in line, a woman with a baby carriage had come up to the two of them and asked if she could "take a photo" with them and her baby as she was so into what was going on, she wanted her son to grow up and know that "he was there" on such an important, historical occasion. That story made it around and around "the line" and eventually, AP or Reuters hunted them down, got it on the record and it went out over the newspapers all across the country.
As my fiancee wrote him back to tell him about the coincidence of us being in town at the same time, I flipped on the news and heard that on Saturday, a number of the volunteers that were helping keep the line moving were actually people who had been married on Friday and came back to help out.
Anyway, the rest of the weekend was terrific. Some other friends of ours were in town for the romantic weekend as well and we split a bottle of champagne with them at the Clifton to celebrate after another day of tromping around on foot. Unfortunately for us being less-than-Rockefeller's, we had gotten a "deal" with the airline and had to leave the hotel the following morning (President's Day) at 6:00 a.m. to make our flight back to L.A., so our vacation was coming to an end.
As the shuttle whisked us through the finally-arrived, much-promised early morning rain off to SFO and my newly be-ringed fiancee snoozed against my shoulder, I glanced out the window and noticed gathered around a street light what looked like a group of about seven campers in heavy coats and umbrellas waiting at a crosswalk. I used my hand and wiped away the fog on the window as the van moved through the intersection and saw that, in fact, we were just then passing City Hall. In the dark, I could make out literally dozens upon dozens of people sitting at the sidewalk, huddled under umbrellas and in what looked like tents waiting for Monday's round of marriages to begin. As the van kept going, so did the line - all the way down the sidewalk and then around a corner at the edge. A couple of the other shuttle passengers similarly gaped in curiosity at the line and the murmur of "ah, City Hall" floated around a bit before everyone went silent again for the rest of the drive.
We made it back to the airport in plenty of time and I got my sleepy fiancee on board with no trouble. Honestly, it was kind of sad leaving San Francisco as it was such an exciting weekend. I wanted to propose to --- on Valentine's Day because then every year on that date, we'd always remember it as a special occasion. Through no planning of my own, there's a bunch of other reasons now while I'll always remember it, too. Thought you'd find it interesting as it was a wonderful, wonderful time to be there.
Hope you and yours are weathering the cold season well!
Dear ---,
I got engaged! Good news, eh? I know you have yet to meet ---, but thought you'd be interested to know. For Valentine's Day, we'd planned to get out of L.A. for the three-day weekend and wing up to San Francisco, but she had no idea I was going to propose. When I did at midnight on Friday the 13th asking, "So, do you want to spend our first Valentine's Day together engaged?" she said, "Yes," was shocked, loved the ring and was probably most surprised that I'd contacted her parents to ask permission, being a good southern lad.
But, the reason I'm writing was to find out your current mailing address as I picked up the Saturday Chronicle and the weekend Examiner as I figured you might want to read the local coverage of what was truly an extraordinary event going down there over the weekend.
I don't think I heard about the "legalization" of gay marriage in SF until Thursday, but then it was all over the internet, particularly places like the Drudge Report et. al., but I still wasn't sure what the legal loophole was that afforded this. I had read that the mayor, Gavin Newsom, had something to do with it - some article had mentioned that it was going on with "his blessing" - but then the same articles would quickly state that the right-wing Christian "pro-family" forces were quickly moving for an injunction. But then on Friday, of course, the courts told them they'd have to wait until next week.
The first time I realized that it was going to be quite a thing to be in San Francisco this weekend was at LAX when waiting for the same much-delayed flight as me and my femme (she's Jewish, I'm Texan, so I guess we can relate to relationships considered slightly "outside the norm"), a male couple in their nervous forties were waiting with us, ringing up on the cellphone, listening to the days events, waiting for the plane and the inevitable long lines at the courthouse. I had no idea people were "flying in" from around California, but hey, why not? I chatted with them a little about the broken-down airplane and the typical tourist commiserations, but I still hadn't found out too many particulars. When we asked if the flight might get cancelled all the way around, we were told "no way" as with the All-Star Game, there were no hotel rooms and they couldn't book us the next morning. Two hours late, we boarded and off we went.
Saturday morning, San Francisco was electric like you wouldn't believe. The local TV news was going crazy - out of their heads reporting on just how many people had lined up on Friday and were getting married. A quick soundbyte-type news report interviewed a number of the happy couples, starting with a couple of women in what must have been their fifties saying that they "never thought they'd be able to be married in their lifetime" and it was obvious that the fact that the possibility that these marriages might "go away" after a court battle just wasn't on their mind. It was Valentine's Day, after all. They interviewed some mustached-and-suit-coated protestor who had all the manners of the Grinch who dropped lines about protecting his children and "the importance of family," but then cut back to a sighing legal type on the gay rights side who countered by saying that the road to civil rights was always plagued by such folks.
We hit the town running, looking for food and wanting to get to Chinatown before the much-ballyhooed rain came (which we avoided until Sunday) and read through the Chronicle over a croissant and orange juice. I hadn't heard much about Gavin Newsom before, but he was just recently elected and NPR had some fiery interview not long ago with his main competitor, a man who felt Newsom was too young, something of a pretender and was only likely to win as the previous mayor had campaigned so hard for him. By saying that gay marriage was legal due to the sexual discrimination laws and switching "husband" and "wife" on the marriage license application to "applicant 1" and "applicant 2" simply to "be in compliance with California's sexual discrimination laws" was certainly a coy way of ingratiating himself to millions overnight (and virtually guaranteeing he will never hold a federal post). What I thought was really groovy about the mayor was that he himself officiated at the wedding of two different couples from his own staff and spent the entire weekend - alongside HUNDREDS of volunteers - helping to get more people married than probably have stormed San Francisco in decades in such a short amount of time. Photos on the front pages of all the dailies showed happy couples at City Hall, shot after shot, picture after picture, including a great snap on the front of the Chronicle with two men getting married with their babies strapped to their chests in those odd baby carriers that look like front-loaded parachutes.
Though we didn't venture into the Castro (we were on the northside and on foot - 'twould've been a hell of a walk), what was going on at City Hall was on the lips of every tourist, shop keep, cab driver and fellow diner everywhere we went. All around Fisherman's Wharf, happy couples were celebrating Valentine's Day in a city that just really seemed to be in the right spirit for the day. By having volunteers working all day with extended hours on Saturday, Sunday and Monday before the Christian groups could hit the courts with a possible injunction on Tuesday, it almost seemed too-perfect that that three-day weekend would be over Valentine's Day, even though there's probably a real historical precedent for such a line-up. Still, when munching on a sundae at Ghiradelli's and spying a newlywed couple that was walking down towards the Square with a massive entourage in tow it kept the reminders coming of what kind of day it was. That and, of course, my now-fiancee's near-constant cell ringing when one relative or friend found out about our engagement and called with a quick "mazeltov."
Before heading out to dinner, we went back to our hotel to change clothes after wandering all day (San Francisco - the Land of Calves of Steel) and found a Fetish Ball was happening in our hotel. The doorman for that party told us that the place was really popping because Prince was staying there. Well, we had a hard-won reservation for a small Italian joint in Nob Hill, so we excused ourselves and headed upstairs.
My girl - being the busy, industrious woman she is - is tethered to her workplace by a Blackberry which delivers her e-mails remotely wherever she is. For the first time, that was a boon. A friend of ours from here in L.A., Mikko (a fantastic cook who should start a restaurant when he tires of screenwriting), had written an "all call" e-mail out to his entire e-mail address list announcing that he and his long-time partner Ari and he had raced up from Los Angeles and gotten married the day before. While waiting in line, a woman with a baby carriage had come up to the two of them and asked if she could "take a photo" with them and her baby as she was so into what was going on, she wanted her son to grow up and know that "he was there" on such an important, historical occasion. That story made it around and around "the line" and eventually, AP or Reuters hunted them down, got it on the record and it went out over the newspapers all across the country.
As my fiancee wrote him back to tell him about the coincidence of us being in town at the same time, I flipped on the news and heard that on Saturday, a number of the volunteers that were helping keep the line moving were actually people who had been married on Friday and came back to help out.
Anyway, the rest of the weekend was terrific. Some other friends of ours were in town for the romantic weekend as well and we split a bottle of champagne with them at the Clifton to celebrate after another day of tromping around on foot. Unfortunately for us being less-than-Rockefeller's, we had gotten a "deal" with the airline and had to leave the hotel the following morning (President's Day) at 6:00 a.m. to make our flight back to L.A., so our vacation was coming to an end.
As the shuttle whisked us through the finally-arrived, much-promised early morning rain off to SFO and my newly be-ringed fiancee snoozed against my shoulder, I glanced out the window and noticed gathered around a street light what looked like a group of about seven campers in heavy coats and umbrellas waiting at a crosswalk. I used my hand and wiped away the fog on the window as the van moved through the intersection and saw that, in fact, we were just then passing City Hall. In the dark, I could make out literally dozens upon dozens of people sitting at the sidewalk, huddled under umbrellas and in what looked like tents waiting for Monday's round of marriages to begin. As the van kept going, so did the line - all the way down the sidewalk and then around a corner at the edge. A couple of the other shuttle passengers similarly gaped in curiosity at the line and the murmur of "ah, City Hall" floated around a bit before everyone went silent again for the rest of the drive.
We made it back to the airport in plenty of time and I got my sleepy fiancee on board with no trouble. Honestly, it was kind of sad leaving San Francisco as it was such an exciting weekend. I wanted to propose to --- on Valentine's Day because then every year on that date, we'd always remember it as a special occasion. Through no planning of my own, there's a bunch of other reasons now while I'll always remember it, too. Thought you'd find it interesting as it was a wonderful, wonderful time to be there.
Hope you and yours are weathering the cold season well!