little girl blue

It had only been a year since I gave my barbies away. At fourteen I had my first job.
I felt proud, all grown up. I wanted to go camping with her. She was a few years older than me yet I was permitted to go. It was all so innocent. Her father caused me to lose my first job, he didn't like his brother. But I still wanted to go. I had a new blue flowered swimsuit. Still childlike, puberty had not quite set in. I was so excited. Her uncle was much much older, he seemed real cool. The wild child.

I don't remember the ride or where we stayed.
But I remember a young girl with long blond hair in the playground not much younger than myself. He said he was 'waiting' for her to grow up. She looked so innocent swinging on the swing. Something didn't feel right, but at that age I was unsure of what it was. He confessed the purpose of me going was 'to be with him.' I was confused yet relieved when he said it was not to be. I often wondered later whose saving grace that was?

I remember going to some cabins and my friend drifted off. I stayed behind at the campfire. I was feeling abandoned yet liked the new attention. The guys around the campfire treated me like their peer, drinking a beer. I felt woozy right away and one guy kept me from falling into the fire. As a Neil Young song played, he began to tell me a story. In his rage, he told me about four college students getting killed in Ohio. I had no idea what had happened. I just remember his intense face.

I often wonder what happened to him. Had he himself gone on to college? Head mass demonstrations for fallen causes? Did his intense excitement stay kindled, or did his causes die like those flickering flames?

Proposition 8

To be quite honest, it's safe inside the box. Let me explain. I was brought up in the church. A marriage is between and man and a woman, etc. etc. I think what bothers people who don't believe in same sex relationships or marriages is what it can do to them. It's scary for various reasons. One, it may purely disgust them. Two, they may be afraid of being turned on. Three, they may be afraid their straight partner would turn. I can't imagine any other reasons.

It's easy to judge, but hard to understand.

Therefore I tried looking inside my own box to see if I could come up with some sort of equivalent.
I grew up in a white town. No blacks to this day live there. I never really thought about it, really. I met my white husband, had a child, nice home, dog, you know the story. Many years later, long after my husband, I meet a black man. We started as friends chatting. I liked what was in his head. I was later surprised to find out he wasn't white. All of a sudden, it didn't seem to matter. What came back to me was years earlier learning in church to accept people for who they were. That black was just a color of skin, as is white, and so on. I don't see him as being black. I see him as being a man.

If my state where to pass a law and say it's against the law to wed a black man, I think I'd be pretty pissed too. You may not understand it. But, I do. It's okay if you don't understand it. I'm living it. I'm happy, so you can leave me alone. I guess we should let those who are for same sex marriages alone too. They understand it. They're living it. Let's leave them alone. Let's let them get married too.