Dry Ice Factory

This will take a longer piece of writing to do the subject justice, so tune in to Chunga 21 (probably) if you want the longer version. The short version is that yesterday I went to Heronswood Gardens over on the Kitsap Peninsula to celebrate the wedding of Jessica Amanda Salmonson and Rhonda Boothe. The law legalizing same sex marriage went into effect on Thursday, and part of the longer story is the story of how that law was passed by the state legislature and eventually confirmed by popular vote. The S'Klallam Tribe, which had recently purchased Heronswood, donated the space and the ceremony to any same sex couples who wanted to get married on Sunday. Five couples took them up on the offer.

I caught a ride with John D. Berry and Eileen Gunn. Also catching a ride with them was Wendy Wees, who was one of Jessica's old girlfriends and whom I hadn't seen in decades, as she noted when I got in the car. Also at the ceremony were Marilyn Holt and Cliff Wind and a friend of Jessica and Rhonda's from Bremerton whose name I didn't catch but with whom I chatted at dinner afterward. We ate at the buffet at the S'Klallam's casino, with archaic cigarette smoke in the air.

It's hard to describe the emotions of the day. It was sweet and weird and epic and intimate. I felt like an eye-witness to history. There was a reporter from the North Kitsap Herald interviewing everyone about the blessed event. There was a jazzy Christmas song playing in the distant background during the ceremony. The officiant was a complete stranger who only met Jessica and Rhonda fifteen minutes before marrying them. Their vows were taken from the wedding of Tiny Tim and Miss Vicki. My wedding present was the fossil of a snail that I dug up by a train trestle outside of Salem when I was a young boy. Conversations with old friends ranged across the world and throughout time. One should always take the ferry to a wedding. My heart is bursting. Film at 11.

Saw this biopic about Harvey Milk with Denys yesterday. A good way to start the new year. I'm not sure it's a great movie, but it's a great subject. Milk was the first openly gay man to be elected to public office in the US. The movie captures an important moment in the gay rights movement. It's a reminder how far we've come on that front, although it was also a reminder that the same arguments are being used now against marriage equality that were used against any civil rights for gays and lesbians thirty years ago.

Milk is a pretty generic biopic in a number of ways, but it does get into some areas that I don't remember being covered by the excellent 1984 documentary, The Times of Harvey Milk. It shows more of his personal life, including two of his boyfriends, both of whom suffered for his political career in different ways. It also shows more of his interactions and sparring with his eventual assassin, Dan White. (I totally did not recognize Josh Brolin in the part of White. I'd last seen him as the dogged Llewellyn in No Country for Old Men.)

It's probably inevitable when one sees a historical movie set in one's own lifetime to think about one's place in the story, however marginal. There's a scene in the movie where Milk tells all of his gay colleagues that it's time to come out. The only way to turn the tide of intolerance is to remind everyone that they know someone gay. This reminded me -- this morning, as I was thinking about the film -- of my own evolution. When Harvey Milk was murdered in November 1978, I had only just started to shed my own homophobia. I had met carl at the University of Oregon in September, and he came out to me pretty soon thereafter. The first conversation on the topic lasted for hours, as he argued me out of my ignorant positions. I was shaken to the core by this challenge to my beliefs. Several months later, in March 1979, he and I traveled to Seattle with another friend to go to Norwescon, and carl introduced me to Denys, for whom the term "out" was an understatement. Whatever shreds of homophobia I still clung to were soon blown away by the sheer force of his personality and example. The White Night Riots following Dan White's acquittal on charges of murder occurred on May 21, 1979. By then I knew enough to be appalled at the infamous Twinkie Defense.

Another interesting aspect of this to look back on was that earlier in 1978, before I graduated from high school, I had a long, heated argument about gay rights in the high school library with a classmate, Kevin T. I was not persuaded, and maybe the difference was that he did not make the argument, as carl and Denys did, that basically amounted to, "Look at me. Can you really continue to believe this nonsense in the face of knowing me?" Kevin didn't come out to me, so I don't know if he was gay or if he was just enlightened.

After all, there were many other straight people who had figured it out by 1978. After the movie, Denys said he thought it was interesting that they didn't show much of Mayor Moscone, who was killed by White just before Milk was. Denys said that Moscone was a straight man who had reached out to the gay community as he formed his political coalition. That's why Milk was credibly able to threaten Moscone that the gay community would not vote for him again if he reinstated Dan White after his resignation. It's a good scene in the movie, with the mayor teasing Milk that he's playing Boss Tweed. "A gay man with power," Milk says with a grin. "Now that's a scary thought."

Well, the film is very moving. Milk and his supporters and constituents made history. They stood up to the bigots and pushed back and expanded the realm of human rights. Milk payed the ultimate price for being the public face of the movement. This is a good movie for learning about this important moment in time, although I also recommend The Times of Harvey Milk, which will give you a better feeling for Milk's actual personal charisma and greatness. Sean Penn may be a great actor, but he's no Harvey Milk, who was a great man.