By: Shannon Ralph
I am going to commit a wee little bit of plagiarism today. In my defense, however, it is plagiarism for a good cause. Therefore, I am going to defend my actions with a series of clichés…so as to feel a little better about my artistic failings on this fine Hump Day.
Imitation is the best form of flattery.
The end justifies the means.
The game is on the line.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
I want my place in the sun.
Perception becomes reality.
Kill them with kindness.
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining.
Don’t get your knickers in a knot.
I got the short end of the stick.
She’s one taco short of a combination plate.
Even a blind squirrel can find an acorn once in a while.
I got the skills to pay the bills.
Madder than a wet hen.
Off like a prom dress!
Sloppy as a soup sandwich.
Is a frog’s ass water tight?
Okay…only the first few clichés actually apply to this situation. However, it’s so easy—not to mention thoroughly entertaining—to get caught up in clichés. I apologize.
So what in the hell am I babbling on and on about this morning? I saw a woman on Facebook who is, each day until the November 6th election, posting one item about how her same-sex marriage is just like every heterosexual marriage out there. I loved this idea and decided to copy it. Yes, it’s plagiarism. However, I figure if I can write something that maybe speaks to one person she isn’t reaching via Facebook then maybe it is plagiarism for a good cause. And plagiarism with an honorable motive isn’t really plagiarism at all. Okay, it is. But still…
In the wake of the Republicans and the Religious Right and everyone else who wants people to believe that gay marriage is different–that gay marriage is somehow a lesser union and therefore, not a human rights issue–I give you 28 ways in which my marriage is just like your marriage. 28 ways in which gay marriage is the same as straight marriage and deserving of the same rights and sociatal respect. We’ll start with #28 and make it a countdown. Like Letterman. Only not so damn late at night.
Reason #28 Why My Marriage is Just Like Yours:
She worries when I am late.
Ruanita is a worrier by nature. She comes from a long, distinguished line of worriers and has instilled that somewhat troublesome instinct in our children. If I ever come waltzing in the door more than 5 minutes after my promised arrival time, she worries. If I do not answer my phone by the third ring, she worries. If I spend too long at Target—even though she is well aware that Target is my oasis of calm in a crazy world, and I am likely simply taking my time sipping my latte and perusing the sale racks in kid-free bliss—she assumes I am dead on the side of the road. Undoubtedly victim to a deadly automobile pile-up on Cedar Avenue. If, heaven forbid, I forget to take my phone upstairs with me when I go to bed and she attempts to reach me at 10:00PM as she is driving home from work, she convinces herself beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have been murdered by a malicious gang of roving thieves and that her three adorable children have been sold into slavery in rural Minnesota. She spends the entire dark drive from Eden Prairie to Minneapolis fretting about how she is going to go undercover and infiltrate the childhood slavery ring to save her kids from the evil inhabitants of Climax, Minnesota. (Disclaimer: I am totally making this up. As far as I know, no such slavery ring exists in decidedly seedy-sounding Climax…though I have no idea where in the hell Climax is really, so I am certainly not an authority on crime statistics in that small town.) And worse yet, how she will manage to survive without me around to schedule all of her doctor appointments and edit all of her outgoing emails for spelling and grammar and talk her down from the proverbial ledge when she is forced to have more than two conversations a week with her erratic and mentally unbalanced mother?
She worries because she loves me. She worries because our lives are so inexplicably intertwined that the thought of trying to live some sort of meaningful existence without one another is unthinkable. Isn’t that what a marriage is all about? Isn’t that the whole point?
In that way (and 27 more ways to come), my marriage is just like your marriage.
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Originally published on The Seattle Lesbian
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