Traditional Marriage 0

is a great thing. That must be why I’ve had two of them.

But which tradition? From a letter to the Philadelphia Shrinquier:

Which tradition would they most like to uphold? The biblical version? Solomon, we are told in 1 Kings 11, had 700 wives. The medieval version? Marriage for the nobility was more a matter of property and dynastic control than love. Queen Isabella of France, for example, was betrothed to Edward II as an infant and married off (with the church’s blessing) at the age of 12. According to John Boswell in his Same-Sex Unions in Premodern Europe, marriage was not even a sacrament until the 12th century. Too ancient? Until the 1970s, women could not apply for credit or enter into many legal contracts without their husbands’ consent. That kind of marriage? Of course, until 1967, if you loved someone of a race different from your own, it was illegal in many states to marry.

I can remember when being homosexual was a crime. Persons got arrested for it, and because of that, homosexuals were driven underground. And so on.

More and more, science shows that homosexuality is not a choice; it is simply a state of being, not asked for, not chosen, just there.

As I have said before, my position on gay marriage is a resounding “I don’t care.” That’s why it’s a subject I have seldom addressed here. Nevertheless . . .

Neither of my two marriages crashed and burned because of what other persons did with each other in other houses.

Frankly, I think the political battle about gay marriage is over. It is a done deal.

What’s left is just the mopping up.

Why?

Because, as more and more persons realize that they daily deal with gay folks–folks they never would have thought were gay–they realize that gay folks are not monsters. They are persons. And, like straight folks, some of them are nice and some of them aren’t. But that has nothing to do with their being gay. It has to do with being persons.

As I said to a friend of mine the other day, if gay folks want to know the joys of divorce court, I say, “Let ’em.”