All Things Being Equal

Before you read my post this evening, there's something you should know ... I'm mad. Not mad like insane, although I suppose insane does apply to me more often than not, but mad like angry. While insanity is just a hop and a skip away for me on any given day, it's rare that I get genuinely, full-on mad about something or at someone. It takes a lot to make me mad ... a whole, whole lot, and it takes even more for me to get mad enough to actually voice, or write as the case may be, my mad. And since I flew off the handle and voiced my mad to a couple of my neighbors already, I figured I might as well go ahead and write about my mad, too ... why not, right? So, grab a cup of coffee and settle in if you think you're up to reading what I have to say ... actually, if you drink coffee this late it will keep you awake so maybe grab a glass of almond milk instead ... I sure as heck don't want to be responsible for causing you to lose any sleep tonight.

I drive a Subaru Legacy and I love it ... not as much as I loved my Jeep Wrangler, mind you, but I do love my Subie. Just like I've loved every one of the Subarus I've owned down through the years. And just so you know, when I bought my first Subaru Outback, I had no idea that Subaru was one of the first car companies to actively market to the LGBT community. I bought my Outback because I had three kids and all their gear to haul back and forth to a million events, and because Subarus are known for their durability and their all-wheel drive and safe handling on wet or snowy roads. Minus the kids and hauling gear around, I bought my Subaru Legacy for the same reasons ... period. Trust me ... I looked much gayer driving my Jeep Wrangler with the top down and my ball cap turned around backwards than I could ever hope to look driving my Subaru Legacy sedan, even with the sunroof open and Jennifer Knapp blaring on the radio.

After our walk earlier this evening, Ollie and I hopped into the car to run up to the pharmacy to pick up a couple of my meds ... by the way, I don't think it's necessarily a good thing that every single person who works in the pharmacy knows me by name and says, "Hi, Terrie! What's up? Where's Ollie?" whenever I come in. I left Ollie in the car tonight while I went inside the store because I had left his leash at home, and when I came out after getting my medications, I noticed there was a teenage boy standing next to my car peeking through the window. Thinking he must be looking at my adorable little wiener dog, when I got close enough so that he could hear me, I said, "He's a cutie, isn't he?" The boy smiled warmly as he said, "He sure is ... my sister drove a Forester for a while until our dad found out they are gay cars and made her sell it. But I still want a WRX when I move out even if they are gay." 

Lest you think I took a swing at the teenager right there in the middle of the CVS parking lot, I assure you I did not. Once I realized the kid didn't seem to notice or care that I was wearing basketball shorts and a ball cap or that I was holding a guy wallet in my hand, we ended up having quite a nice chat about cars. It was quite obvious to me that the boy didn't feel the same way his father did, and it wasn't what the kid said that made me mad ... what made me mad was realizing that his dad is one of many who are attempting to teach their children to hate. That's why I'm mad, and the more I've thought about it, the more angry and mad I've gotten. On the day when the Supreme Court began debating the constitutionality of same-sex marriages, I'm standing in a pharmacy parking lot in Johnson County, Kansas, talking to a 17-year-old kid whose father sold his sister's car after reading somewhere that LGBT folks are six times more likely to buy a Subaru than their heterosexual counterparts. I personally think the reason people in the LGBT community are more likely to purchase a Subaru is because they are smart enough to know that Subarus are great cars. In fact, if they're anything like me, my sexuality had absolutely nothing to do with me purchasing a Subaru and absolutely everything to do with quality, workmanship, gas mileage and butt warmers ... it had a whole heck of a lot to do with the butt warmers for sure.

So here's the thing ... and pay extra close attention to this part ... I don't drive a gay car and I don't gay park it in my gay garage. I don't put gay gas in it, and I don't take it to the gay car wash. I don't have a gay phone or a gay refrigerator or a gay desk. I don't read a gay Bible, and I don't love a gay God. The gel I put in my hair isn't gay, and I don't use gay soap when I take a shower. I don't drink gay tea or eat gay lunch. I'm not a gay mom or a gay Ghee or a gay sister or a gay aunt. I don't even wear gay clothes (though many of you will disagree with me on that one). I'm not a gay friend. I drive a car, and I park in my garage. I put gas in my car and I take it to the car wash. I have a phone and a refrigerator and a desk. I read the Bible, and I love God. I put hair gel in my hair each morning, and I shower with soap. I drink tea and I eat lunch. I am a mom, a Ghee, a sister, an aunt. I wear clothes. I'm a friend.

All things being equal ... sometimes I wonder if they ever will be, friends ... sometimes I wonder if they ever will be.