Marriage on the Rocks

Sad. It really is the only descriptive word necessary for this moment in time.

Maine voters went to the polls yesterday and repealed an enacted law that allowed gays and lesbians to marry. What makes this turn of events particularly difficult to swallow is the fact that my partner and I had talked about getting married there this coming summer (he used to live in Bar Harbor for seven years).

All we want is to be able to quantify our relationship. We already wear rings on our fingers. We believe we are married in God’s eyes (please, if you have differing opinion, don’t roll yours). But our love for each other doesn’t provide us with the benefits our heterosexual friends receive due to their having one single sheet of paper…a marriage certificate. Think about this: Without that sheet of paper I have nothing; no legal standing to keep me in my home or pass along property; no visitation rights or medical decision-making in the event of a catastrophe.

I am saddened that there are still so many people out there who truly believe that marriage is to be reserved for a man and a woman. Their convictions—often based on scripture—drive them to believe that giving homosexuals the opportunity (I don’t want to call it a right) to marry will somehow degrade the sanctity of marriage. It seems to me that a better use of time for marriage activists is to prop up heterosexual marriages, too many of which end in divorce.

I can only shake my head in wonder as to how some people can interpret the union of a loving couple as degrading the sanctity of marriage. In my opinion, it can only enhance.

No matter how you slice it, those defending the sanctity of marriage and protecting the status quo are guilty of discrimination. Definitely, NOT something the Jesus would do.

Return to Sender

Somewhere along the way I seem to have lost something important.

Its preciousness has nothing to do with monetary value and everything to do with spiritual well-being. Like the five senses, it is an innate ability.

Outside of the safety of the familial cocoon, it has been swallowed up in darkness. Like Peter Pan’s shadow it has become disconnected from my essence.

I know that it is close at hand, tauntingly within reach. But I am blind to its presence.

If you should find it in your personal travels, please mark it RETURN TO SENDER. I’m certain the postal service will return it to me, along with this year’s letters to Santa.

What have I lost?

I’m shocked you even have to ask that question. When have you last seen a grin on my face?

When is the last time you heard me laugh on the phone?

Somewhere, hiding from me…is the ability to have fun.

Seeing Red in a Pink World

We’ve barely moved into October and I am already feeling the urge to puke pink. No, I’m not about to purge Pepto-Bismol. My revulsion is created by something that has become equally as distasteful…Breast Cancer Awareness Month. My beef isn’t with breast cancer. It is a disease that is truly horrendous and needs to be eradicated.

No, my beef is with the omnipresent marketing of the disease.

Thanks to the Susan G. Komen Foundation, the color pink is plastered everywhere and on everything. What started with a simple pink ribbon has blossomed into endemic proportions. We now have pink laptops (Sony), pink toasters (Dualit), pink yogurt lids (Yoplait), and pink Visa cards; we have pink sneakers (New Balance), pink water pitchers (Vitapur), pink mixers (Kitchen Aid), and pink garden tools (Apollo). The list of pink products continues on ad nauseum.

The last straw for me came today with NFL players wearing pink gloves and cleats. It just went too far.

Cancer touches everyone at some point in their lives.

Mine has been touched over and over again:

-My father died from Bladder cancer
-My paternal grandfather had prostate cancer
-My mother had melanoma
-My maternal grandmother had lymphoma
-My maternal aunt had bone cancer
-My brother has had both prostate cancer and skin cancer
-My MALE cousin has had breast cancer

With this history, it is only a matter of time before cancer touches me.

What angers me is that this excellent marketing campaign has relegated other cancers to the sidelines. It has marginalized other cancer patients who might be coming in for physical treatment or emotional health and are bombarded with the hardly subliminal message during October at hospitals, doctor’s offices, and social service agencies around the country that breast cancer matters MORE. It has made competition for the remaining dollars (for research, for care) fierce.

ALL cancers are serious conditions, but even they are not the deadliest.

At last tabulation, heart disease remains the largest killer in America (even among women). With that in mind…does anyone know when National Heart Month is in America?

I didn’t think so.

-IC

aromatic beans do
reap hefty euphoric
swell
ironic inkwells woo
artisan colonic
hell

monosyllabic, yes
if it weren’t such tragic
knell
chronic pangs illumine
wordsmith’s epidemic
quell

epic adverbs conspire
critics parse forensic
gel
formic dissolutions
pummel monolithic
Kell

To Valhalla and Back

Thom and I had planned to have this past week together; free from the constrains of work, not knowing what we would do with our unscheduled time. As the time grew closer, I asked him a most important question:

Do you want a vacation where we "do" something or have a relaxing, re-energizing retreat somewhere?

The stresses of work being what they are for both of us, the answer was unequivocal.

RETREAT.

Out was Disney (we're going in May anyway); out was the Kennedy Space Center; out was flying off somewhere to another busy city, doing the tourist thing.

Serendipity stepped in with Kizmet by her side. A client at work who grew up in the Keys told me of a quaint little resort down in Marathon. Thom called and by coincidence there was just a cancellation for exactly the week we wanted. Whether it be Odin, Freya, or Thor the gods of the Nordic pantheon were shining on us.

There is not much to tell about the resort itself, except that it is off the beaten path, has only five units, and is situated in a beautifully secluded area. Books (and iPhone with Kindle app) in hand, we spent hours relaxing and enjoying Keys life.

When we did venture out, it was mostly to eat. We eschewed dinners in favor of breakfast and a late lunch, deciding that we liked having the afternoon and night to chill and watch sunset. In atypical fashion we ate at only two places: Leigh Ann's Coffee House for breakfast and the Island Fish Co for lunches.

We hated to come home, but I'm sure will visit Valhalla again before the Valkyries come to bring us home.