I want a gay president.
Electing Barack Obama is a great advance for this nation, this nation that promises "all men are created equal." Well, it's been 220-odd years, and only now have we finally acknowleged -- according to our Most Serious Pundits -- that this concept fully applies to people with dark skin. Who knew! Or, more seriously: Finally. By all that is holy -- finally.
Now, are we done?
No.
As Prop 8 reminds us, no, we are not goddamn done at all. As do the equally grotesque measures in Arizona and Florida, and the frankly even more abominable outcome in Arkansas.
That this sort of nonsensical bigoted hatred needs to be fought -- well, we all know that, or at least I hope we do.
But the Prop 8 thing bothers me. A lot. Took me a while to understand why, but then I got it, I think.
I realized at some point today that even if Prop 8 had died, it would not have been enough.
And what would be "enough"?
Let me put it this way. The day I'm phonebanking or canvassing for a proudly gay presidential candidate -- THAT will be a great day.
On that day, I will be able to say to my children, see? America keeps all of its promises.
I want to live to help elect a gay president.
Because, you see, if I am nothing else, I am a patriot.