That’s the logic you’ll get from most gay marriage opponents: “Well, if we let men marry men and women marry women, where does it end?”
There. It will end right there: Humans marrying humans.
Nobody is going to marry a dog, or the Easter Bunny or a microwave oven (as if you could get a microwave to commit to marriage for more than thirty seconds or, at the very most, three minutes on defrost).
Gay-marriage opponents will also say (these gay marriage opponents, they never let up): But letting homosexuals get married sullies the holy bond of marriage.
Yeah right. Your Aunt Gladys dancing the Macarena and leading the conga line at your wedding reception has done more to harm marriage than gays have.
And I don’t know if you noticed, but the holy bond of matrimony has already been sullied more times than a Tijuana donkey show.
Elizabeth Taylor has been married EIGHT TIMES. Britney Spears once got married in Vegas for 55 HOURS or roughly as long as it would take Britney to spell “matrimony.” ABC and the Fox networks have created billion-dollar empires filming vapid, near-total strangers getting hitched just so they can get on the cover of US Weekly and write a couple’s cookbook.
Regardless of what your religion is, a marriage is only as sacred as the two people exchanging the vows. I’ve seen big church wedding go down in flames before the caterer got paid and I’ve seen couples stay together for decades after getting married by a drive-thru Elvis impersonator (the old, fat version; the young, skinny Elvis was working the Keno table).
Straight or gay, these days marriage needs all the supporters it can get. More than 40 percent of all marriages in the United States wind up in divorce court and more than 60 percent of American kids grow up without at least one of their biological parents.
Regardless of who gets to kiss whom and who gets to toss the bouquet, anytime two people want to dream the impossible dream and publicly make the commitment to spend their lives together, it should be celebrated like an astronaut blasting off into space.
The idea of living with the same person for the rest of your life is slightly less terrifying than bobbing for apples in a piranha tank. I’ve been married to a beautiful woman for more than six years, but if she loses the TV remote one more time or I trip over another heel in the hallway, I’m either going to fake my death or start plotting hers.
Marriage is hard enough without a group of angry protesters shouting you down because they were born one way and you were born another. And it’s a little too convenient to believe that marriage should only be between a man and a woman because you just happened to be born a heterosexual. That’s like saying you believe only guys dressed in purple and gold should be able to dunk basketballs because you’re a Lakers fan.
Outlawing gay marriage equates to little more than legalized bigotry. It’s 90 percent of Americans dictating how the other ten percent has to live. It’s no different than separate drinking fountains for blacks and whites in the South. Go ask someone over 75 how proud they feel about that rule now, hmm?
If you really think about it, the whole idea of a wedding is, well, kind of gay, like it’s been ripped straight from an episode of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.
There are flowers, everyone is dressed in white, grown men are fretting over what bow tie clashes with which cummerbund. And during what was supposedly the happiest day of my life, I was more concerned with marching in time with a harpist. A harpist!
Letting gays get married is the right thing to do. And if you believe it’s a sin, that’s fine, too. Nobody expects you to bring a gift.
Contact Jeff Girod at firstname.lastname@example.org