What does it mean to you?

What does it mean to you?
Every 4th of July, I start thinking about what Freedom means to me. I am grateful that I am an American.
This weekend I had the great fortune to spend some time with Amanda's friend’s mom Gail and hear some stories about when they visit Iran as a family. I can not imagine having the actual fashion police at the mall entrance with an Uzi just to make sure my skin or hair is not showing. It seems beyond silly to think that such a thing could occur today, in the day of IPHONE (did I mention that I love mine?) and MTV. I thought surely my generation the X generation cured all of these things. It seems that we did not cure them but rather ignore them. We had photos of us in parachute pants to hide. We had new cars to buy. We voted for Clinton and surely he would take care of it?
Right?
Oh wait no he was busy with Monica! AND some of US ----> ME voted for Perot.
So I recently realized that I have been so busy in traffic that I was not even paying attention to my own civil rights issue. Again, I thought someone else would take care of it. Thankfully, there is a whole world out there fighting for me, for my family but I NEED to fight too. I need to do something. I need to be a part.
I dedicate myself to the news. I listen to my Man Rush. I listen to FOX NEWS at my desk. I think about politics daily. However, I have not been reading gay news. I have not been thinking about it. Perhaps I have been a lazy gay. Who knows but here I am reading and writing now.
I went to the march and frankly, I did not want to go. It is not that I was not interested. It is just that I thought it was silly to march in the same ol’ gay neighborhood. I thought if we are going to do something then march where you live. I thought I should grab a sign and march in Bedford. If you live in Hurst march in Hurst. If you live in Mount Vernon then march there.
Ha! That is easy for me to say. Mt. Vernon, is my home town and I still do not go there. I spent my life terrified there. I spent my life there trying to be normal. Ok BUT now I am older, wiser and somewhat braver. The country is where you are killed for being gay. Well come to find out, the city is where you get your head bashed for being gay. Now, I do not know the facts of the Rainbow Lounge situation. I am not sure that even HE recalls the facts but I do know that it was bad timing. I do know that it was 40 years prior that the gay rights movement really got started.
Ok, I got off on a small tangent there!
So, I went to the march IN THE HEAT! It was hot! Did I mention that already? Yes, of course I did but good grief there is hot and then there is HOT!
When we rounded the first corner and I saw the cops standing there protecting our right to march I started to choke up. I started to realize why I was there. 40 years prior to that day cops were beating people purely because they were gay. On that day at that march and at every other march across this country cops were standing on the sidelines protecting people just because they were gay. The cops were stopping the traffic for us so that we could march. It was moving. It is still moving. I have not been the same since. I was there chanting about equal rights and that was the point of the march but I believe for me it was about celebrating the country that I live in. It was about hope. It was about humanity. It all came together for me in that neighborhood that I could not wait to find when I was young. It was all about that neighborhood that I drank Dr. Pepper out of glass bottles on Friday nights because I would never drink and drive but wanted to be around people that would not judge me. It was about loving the people who do not understand me or who rejected me when I came out of the closet. It was about the upcoming July 4th that always makes me weepy. For me that march was not about anyone else but me and my country that I so love.
The truth is that sometimes I forget that I am different. I forget that if I walk into the mall (which I avoid at all cost) holding my wife’s hand that people may not be looking at my shoes or the necklace that I just made but rather may be looking at me because I happen to be holding another girls hand. I forget.
The reason that I forget is because I have been blessed. God has taken care of me every step of my life. It is only when I forget to look towards HIM that I get lost. It is only when I choose my own path that I create heartache.
I have been blessed with friends and family and family friends that made the choice to know me and not judge me. My life is wonderful and it is not wonderful because of the car I drive or the phone that I have. It is wonderful because one of my favorite people is my wife’s ex-husband. It is wonderful because my mother has mostly figured out how to text and she loves me. It is wonderful because even though my best friend on this planet could not give birth she was able to adopt two beautiful children and became the mother that God intended her to be. My life is wonderful because even though my 13 year old, soon to be 14 year old is pouting in her bedroom I know she is only pouting and not sneaking out or doing drugs. I know she is a good kid. My life is wonderful because each and every day I wake up grateful to be here and be a part of society.