I was walking in the woods today, all by myself, and started thinking about questions with no answers. Here are some of them that occurred to me.

If I fall in the forest and no one hears my screams, does it matter what language I scream in?

Does it matter what gender or color I am?

If a hungry black bear finds me, in spite of not having heard my screams, will he eat me, regardless of my color and gender?

What if a hungry white bear finds me?

Will he be more discriminating?

If I climb a tree to escape the bear, will the tree fall, even if I make no sound?

Okay, I'm getting r-e-a-l-l-y irritated here. In a futile attempt to make my minimalist blog seem a little more sophisticated, I tried to add a "gadget" to the poor thing. I really, really want to have a "My Blog List" on the sidebar. So I started clicking here and there, on this and that, and found a page entitled, "Add and Arrange Page Elements." Then I clicked on "Add a Gadget," which presented me with a list that included something called "Blog List," and I thought, AH-HA! After a great deal of teeth-gritting and sweating, I finally managed to add 18 blog titles to the thing. I clicked on "Save" and thought, naively, that my list would magically appear on my blog.

YEAH-FUCKING-RIGHT! GRRRRRRRRRR! For once in my life, I allowed myself to be a teensy bit optimistic, and what do I get? Crushed like a goddamned bug!

Excuse me while I go sulk.

AWRIGHT, AWREADY!

Ben commented on my last post, with this powerful rebuttal:

"Different names for different ceremonies sets a very dangerous precedent for inequality. As children we're exposed to all sorts of stories, fairy tales and promises that one day we will fall in love and get married. To then discover that you will never get married, just 'civilly partnered' or 'unioned', just because you are incapable of being attracted to a certain type of person, already makes you feel as if you're not quite part of the human race. A rose by any other name, on this occasion, smells a little token.

I think the real crux is that it really doesn't affect anyone other than the people getting married/partnered/unioned - whatever the name or euphemism. I think that's why the placard-waving masses voting for Prop 8 come across as so unpleasant. What right do such people have to dictate how other people should love each other, and what therefore constitutes a valid expression of that bond?

The most offensive suggestion of all remains that gay men and women should be happy they can "marry" at all now, and thus by extension near-servile for no longer being imprisoned, beaten and murdered. In many parts of the world, they still are."

I have to admit, he has succeeded in making me change my mind. This sentence is particularly moving: "To then discover that you will never get married, just 'civilly partnered' or 'unioned', just because you are incapable of being attracted to a certain type of person, already makes you feel as if you're not quite part of the human race."

Okay guys, get married. As Ben, Lisa, Bill, and DistributorCap all said, it doesn't affect the rest of us, so what's the big deal? And as for a same-sex marriage not fitting the dictionary definition of "marriage," definitions change with time. After all, the word "gay" used to mean "filled with or inspiring mirth..."

A Rose By Any Other Name Still Could Be Legally Binding

While I am a registered Independent, I do tend to be liberal on most social issues. I'm pro-choice, pro-birth-control and pro-sex-ed in the schools. I favor legalization of marijuana. I'm anti-attempts-to-shove-religion-down-my-throat, but the Golden Rule rocks. I'm comfortable with people of other races. I have no problem with gays, lesbians and trans-gender people. "Live and let live" is my motto.

But...and y'all knew there was going to be a "but" in here...I simply cannot understand the fanatical drive by many gays and liberals to try to legalize gay "marriage!" I can understand and am supportive of the wish of same-sex couples to legalize their unions. It is desirable, spiritually and legally, to have their relationship officially recognized. But why insist on calling the union a "marriage?" My Funk & Wagnalls Dictionary defines marriage as "a compact entered into by a man and a woman, based on mutual regard, to live together as husband and wife until separated by death." That's the definition, like it or not! I can call my shoes "gloves," but they're not going to fit on my hands. I can call a red light "green," but if I try to drive through it, I'll have problems. So why not compromise and call the union between a man and a man or a woman and a woman something else? What's wrong with the term, "civil union?" Why insist on using the word "marriage?" I believe that much of the general public's opposition would fade away, if we could compromise on that one point. If you don't like "civil union," think of something else. Invent a new word! New words are added to our lexicon all the time. Call it a "garriage" for gay men and a "larriage" for lesbian women. I'm being silly with those suggestions, of course. But I'm not kidding about the idea of creating a new term for same-sex unions.
What do you think?

If Only...

I'm feeling regretful tonight. I keep thinking of all the things I did that I shouldn't have done and all the things I didn't do that I should have. There is no bigger waste of time and energy than dwelling on the past, yet I can't seem to let it go. My son told me recently that I talk more about the past than anyone he knows. I think (hope) that I don't carry on about my sundry regrets when I'm talking to my kids. I think (hope) that I just tell them stories about my childhood and young adulthood, some of which are amusing, and some are depressing, but interesting (I think and hope). I also enjoy relating anecdotes about their childhoods, which I find amusing, but are met with grim expressions, eye-rolling, and "Please, Mom, not again!"

As for the regrets, I am playing with the idea of developing some sort of ritual that will help me purge myself of them, once and for all. Maybe I could write them down on post-it notes, one per page, and then ball up the page, one at a time, and burn them. Or flush them down the toilet, one whole flush for each note. I'll need a mental acknowledgement and reinforcement of the act. Perhaps a spoken affirmation of the purge and the resulting freedom from guilt - a little mantra I can recite with each flush or flame.

Okay, I'm going to work on it now. I'll let you know how it goes...

HAIKUCKOO

It was just Wham-Bam

You did not say "Thank-you-ma'am"

You have no manners

I try to play fair

But I always come in last

Only cheaters win

Give me those flowers

I will crush them underfoot

I will break your heart

What? I can't hear you

Are you begging for mercy

Ha! Don't make me laugh

Okay, I give up

I can't make myself hate you

I love you too much

Let's try it again

This time let me be on top

Ah...that's much better