Monday, June 05, 2006

Queasy Does It

I have an upset stomach today. I mean, really upset, as in icky stuff coming out of every orifice in my body for the last few days but especially in the last 24 hours; as in an emergency trip to the vet for a bunch of tests; as in a nasty accident on the floor of her office in front of everybody. At which point Moose got down on the floor beside me and cried because she was scared and tired and didn't know what was wrong. I let her pet me. I lay down and rested until we were called back to see the doctor. A nice lady with a cat in a crate let us go in ahead of her. The receptionist got Moose a tissue. It's possible that something I ate didn't agree with me. The something may have been a tennis ball, but that's merely a conjecture on Moose and Goose's part.

For some reason, all of this makes me think of gay marriage. The icky stuff coming out of my orifices--That, of course, would be the loathsome bile being spewed out of the body politic by right-wing hate-mongers seeking to impose their narrow view of religion on the rest of us. Or, it might be the coy machinations of President Bush, who, as his poll numbers plunge ever further downward, proposes to amend the Constitution to enshrine the bigotry of homophobia while piously pretending to insist that "every American deserves to be treated with tolerance, respect, and dignity." Sometimes I wish the president could meet my moms and see how much they love each other and experience how much fun they are. Moose kisses my nose whenever I say something like but then goes on to explain that it wouldn't make any difference. There's no amount of love and no degree of "normalcy" we could show him that would change his mind, because he's not interested in concrete examples of gayness, such as Moose and Goose or Mary Cheney and Heather Poe or the thousands of men who lovingly cared for their dying partners in the early terrifying years of the AIDS crisis. He's only interested in the abstract threat supposedly posed to "the sanctity of marriage" by the kind of changes to the (always changing) institution of marriage that equality for same-sex couples would require. Or, more likely, he's only interested in the cheap political points he can score by whipping his base into a frenzy in order to distract ordinary people from the several disasters wrought over the course of his duplicitous, incompetent, misguided presidency.

That phrase, "the sanctity of marriage," drives my moms nuts. Every time she hears it, Moose thunders at the TV, "You're the president, you idiot, not the pope. Sanctity is not in your job description!" Then she and Goose are off to the races, talking about how if Democrats had any guts, they'd propose to make "Taliban Marriage" the law of the land to guard against the true and pervasive threats to the institution. Adultery would be a capital offense. Flirting with non-spouses at office parties would be a felony. And an attractive, single secretary of state who accidentally referred to her very married boss as her husband would be packed off to Gitmo before she could correct herself and say, "As I was telling the president."

I wonder if my boy Al would have the courage to stand up and say that same-sex marriage ought to be legal because inequality cannot be legal in the United States of America. The law allows no classes among persons. He could give a stirring speech about how this country has always been about expanding freedom and opportunity, not limiting it, not giving it to some and withholding it from others. He could wave the flag and surround himself with a bunch of cute little kids raised by same-sex partners (like my friend Aaron, for example).

Or, he could just go to the vet with me and my moms and watch how hard they work to get me well and keep our family whole.

Don't worry, fans of Roxie's World. The vet thinks I'll be okay in a few days. She sent me home with a bunch more meds to add to all the heart meds I already take. And Goose threw away all the rest of my tennis balls, just in case. Moose sends gratitude to the nice lady at the Takoma Park Animal Clinic who gave up her place in line to us. We hope your cat's okay.

1 comment:

  1. You were very, very brave today, Roxie. Thank you for taking care of Moose when she was taking such good care of you at the vet. We all need to take care of one another.

    George W. Bush shows no interest in that, does he? And we agree that Democrats need to bellow that protecting marriage is a serious enough matter to make Gitmo the immediate punishment for an unmarried secretary of state who, while running around with the very married president of the United States, blurts out that she likes to call him her "husband."

    We want to take care of you, Roxie. We want to make sure you are happy and all your needs are met. I always want to fix everything, but know that I can't. But I love, and LOVE BIG, and that's how I feel about you and Moose.
    --Your Goose


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