Same Sex Marriage in Minnesota

Same sex marriage is illegal in Minnesota.  Precedent was set in 1971 with Baker vs. Nelson.  While no law against same sex marriage had ever been written into the state statutes, the inability to procure a certificate of marriage license for same sex couples due to the restriction to different sexed couples was enough to cause the case to be decided against the plaintiffs.  The case was appealed to the Supreme Court and died there.

Until 1997, this precedent stood as reason enough for same sex marriage to be outlawed by court decision.  Then, in that fateful year, a law was passed that put the standard against same sex marriage into the Minnesota statutes.

Deeming that this was not enough, the Republican-controlled legislature of 2011 decided that they needed the banning of same sex marriage to be written into the Minnesota State Constitution.  This would, in their view, make it more difficult for a paltry 1997 law to be overturned by "activist" judges (a term which is meaningless as a negative, being that all sides of any debate are perfectly willing to find those same "activist" judges that will agree with their side).  All changes to the Constitution requires a majority vote by the citizenry of this great state.  Thus, we find ourselves going to the polls to decide the fate of thousands of same sex couples that desire the same rights as everyone else.

The reasons for and against this law have been hashed and re-hashed ad nauseam with the pro-crowd (the ones that want same sex marriage banned) landing on either religion as the reason for the ban or thinly veiled religious ideas. 

But I don't want to argue reasons.  I want to tell you a story.

In 2000, a friend called me and asked me if I would like to come to a retreat in Duluth, MN.  I agreed and went.  While there, I met a woman.  A beautiful woman.  She smelled of a perfume that I had never smelled before and I wanted more of it.  She wore a pullover Columbia coat which she had to pull over her head hundreds of times during the weekend, revealing a perfect chest and every once in a while, the perfect stomach. 

Everything about this woman was perfect.  I loved her voice, her hands, her feet, her knobby knees, the form of her lips, her long nose where the middle of the nose extends down further than the outer nostril layers.  Conversation flowed.  While it rained for most of the weekend, we sat together under canopy after canopy, talking. 

I fell in love.  Two months later, I proposed.  A year after we met, we were married.  12 years later, we are still very much in love.  I love my wife like the air I breathe.  She is perfect in every way imaginable and I am indebted to my friend for inviting me to this retreat so many years ago.

But I remember going to the licensing office and paying for a marriage license.  The lady behind the counter was nice enough.  We hugged and kissed through the whole process while the entire state office rolled their eyes.  They were sick of love while we were lovesick.  But we were never questioned for our intentions.

We had sex before marriage and were reviled by many.  But, in the society we lived in, we learned that there were many who looked on us and celebrated our love for each other no matter how physical we became or artificial lines in the sand we failed to cross before enjoying the pleasures of one another.  We felt at home in society.

We loved each other and the world loved us for it.

I wish the same for all my friends and all people.

True Freedom Can be Ugly

Recently, I took a trip to Mystic Lake Casino in Shakopee, Minnesota.  The casino is owned and operated by the Shakopee Mdewakanton Sioux Community.  This trip to the casino was two weeks after returning from Las Vegas, Nevada, where I went to about twenty different gambling establishments and saw elements of society that was well dressed and there for tourism and fun.  In Las Vegas, there seemed to be very few compulsive and unhealthy gamblers on the playing floors.

That wasn't the case at Mystic Lake.

Arriving at the casino, I pulled my car up to the valet and noticed the man's false teeth.  He couldn't have been much older than forty and yet he had that leathery look to his skin, the false teeth, the watery look to his eyes - essentially, all of his features revealed to me that he had an alcohol problem.

The gentleman whisked my car away and I walked into the casino to be greeted with a shock to my system that would affect me for the next 16 hours until I realized the reason why.

Inside, the air was thick with smoke. Disabled people were hobbling around from machine to machine, slipping in money, pressing buttons, losing.  Wheelchairs were everywhere, being pushed by relatives or friends.  Some of the wheelchair-bound couldn't even hold their heads up on their own and had to have assistance to play the slots.  Poor and ragged men and women slumped over every other machine.  Elderly, with cigarettes hanging from their mouths, while sometimes another one unknowingly between their fingers, the ashes growing longer, sat at the card tables or slot machines, throwing a leg up on the machine for comfort.  Single mother's with their teenage sons and daughters standing behind them with a dazed "I've been here all day" look on their faces.  Security walked around in pairs, dressed very poorly, in ill-fitting clothing, looking bored and callous.  It was 8:00 at night.

I walked past a bank of four machines.  A lady was sitting at one of the machines, playing all four.  Her son, probably in his early twenties, shifted his feet behind her.  As I passed, he looked my way with a blank stare.  He didn't really see me but looked through me.  To him, I was just another person traveling through the casino, looking for my big win that was never going to come.  He stared for a few seconds, shifted his feet again, then looked back to his mother, grabbing the back of her chair for support.  She lost some more money.

I died inside.

My head began to spin.  I wanted to help these people.  I wanted them to do the right thing and make better decisions with their money.  I wanted them to think about their future and actually run the math on their betting and realize that, in all reality, they were better off buying fireworks and actually having fun burning their money, with no hope of return.  I wanted to grab them and drag them off to college or some skills training center. I wanted to go sit at a workforce center and help them fill out hundreds of applications for employment.  I wanted to help them regain their dignity.

But mostly, I wanted to legislate gambling out of existence.

I went home sore.  I couldn't sleep.  If there had been a dog or cat, I would have kicked it.  Instead, I stayed up and talked to my wife and then myself - all night, sleeping only fitfully.  I had no idea what was wrong with me.  I hurt for these people. 

In the morning, I woke up and went to work, still drunk on the feelings deep inside me.  I sat at my desk - working - nose to grindstone on a project, the thoughts and memories of the night before roiling in my head.

Then it hit me.

My mind and heart were having a war.  I have a deeply held belief in freedom of personal choice.  It's a foundational, core belief of mine that I constantly check with new ideas and inputs to see if it is being trampled upon.  But, fighting this core belief was a philosophical paradigm shift - the deep desire to save people from themselves.  To rein back their ability to freely choose to destroy their lives.  Essentially, what I was fighting was the desire to remove the foundations of freedom from society to force people to act as I felt they should act. 

Then I realized that the idea of personal freedom had nothing to do with whether I agreed with another's choice or not.  The reality of freedom was such that every person in society had the ability to choose how they wanted to live their lives. 

Freedom, while a necessary principle for life in a contented society, was and is never guaranteed to be pretty.  In practice, freedom can and is, many times, very ugly - like the type of people gambling attracts.  But, better than the realization that freedom will manifest many unholy acts in those that practice it, freedom also gives me, a person who has made arguably good choices in life, the ability to change the minds of those that add to the ugliness of it.

I'm coming back!

To all my readers,

My life has been very busy recently.  A trip to Vegas, new friends, newer friends, new experiences, new thoughts, new ideas, new dreams, changes at work.  I'm a very happy and contented gentleman right now.

Now, I'm coming back to writing.  I need it.  Writing is what makes me deeply satisfied and I miss it terribly.

Stay tuned!  I promise.

Love,

I. C.