I love New York

Last night the New York state legislature passed a law authorizing same sex marriage.  The governor signed it almost immediately and it takes affect in 30 days.  My favorite quote is from Roy McDonald, one of four cross-over Republican Senators who voted for the bill:  "Fuck it, I don't care what you think. I'm trying to do the right thing."

The kicker is that New York apparently doesn't have any residency requirements for marriage.  My brother-in-law is gay and lives in New York City.  He called last night, ecstatic about the news, and offered to throw us a wedding.  He was heading down to the West Village to the Stonewall Inn, ground zero for all gay celebrations.  For anyone who doesn't know, the Stonewall was the site of riots back in 1969 when gay patrons of the bar began fighting back against the facist pigs who routinely raided the place because it was a gay hangout. 

I love this picture and, fundamental fairness aside, it is probably the best argument for gay marriage.  We've been buying wedding gifts for straight folks for years.  Payback's a bitch and you can bet that gay couples won't be registering at low end department stores. 

We go to NYC about once a year as it is.  Clay's brother lives there and we love the city.  We generally see all the Broadway and Off-Broadway shows we can pack into the time we are there.  And we hit the museums, both art and history, and generally take a tour of some sort.  It's a great city to walk in.  Since we left the D.C. area, it's also pretty much the only time we get to gay bars any more.  There is something extremely liberating and relaxing about being in a crowd of gay people.  Walls come down, defenses drop, it's like being with family (family that you like).  So we make the homosexual hajj to New York City annually for spiritual renewal.  It's a culture shock to be in redneck rural Virginia in the morning and then be walking hand in hand down a city street later in the day.  No one cares, no one even notices.  It's New York City for heaven's sake, there are a lot more interesting and outrageous things to be seen than two middle-aged gay men holding hands.  Still, for us, to be able to do that is euphoric.

So, we will have to address the question of marriage.  We already have the rings.  We bought them on our first trip together to New York probably 14 or 15 years ago.  Purchased from a middle eastern jeweler in the Diamond District.  He didn't even bat an eye and congratulated us both even back then.  The rings didn't make the marriage and if we come back from the city with a piece of paper stamped by the State of New York, that won't change or strengthen our relationship in the least.  When it comes to official and legal paperwork, I have always believed that a joint mortgage is a stronger bond than a marriage certificate anyway.  It lasts longer than most marriages and it's tougher to break. 

As far as I'm concerned, I made the commitment in my heart to Clay almost 15 years ago this summer, sitting in the audience at Wolf Trap listening to Mary Chapin Carpenter sing "Why walk when you can fly." She performed our wedding that night, although she didn't know it at the time.  There's really nothing that New York can add, or that Virginia can take away.