Essays: September 2004 Archives

Every single thing you do in life... matters.

Most of the actions we take in life we do without thought. Some people have likened our lives and the actions we take to that of a rock that is thrown into a pond. The point of impact of the rock to the surface of the water is the point of our birth. From that point, the energy of our birth radiates in the form of ripples moving outward from the point of impact. Is it that simple? Certainly not, but I do believe in the base assumption that our actions often have implications that we don't foresee and in many cases, don't even realize.

Sometimes, the impact the decisions we make aren't known until years later. And sometimes, at the point that we make the decisions, we don't realize that we are making a major decision.

I'm reminded of a decision I made years ago concerning my family. When a member of my family who I was very close to put an ultimatum to me to open myself up to my family, I decided that to make my life more tolerable at the time, I would distance myself from my family. I did that because my homosexuality was not well received by my family. I made the decision because I feel that all of us should strive to be happy in life. I could be part of my family, as long as I didn't talk about what I am or my relationship with Kent. To me, that would be living a lie. My dilemma was, how can I be happy with anything in my life if I'm too damned ashamed to be honest about everything I am?

The distancing of myself from my family was the correct thing to do, as painful as it was. I have regrets, however. I regret that it had to be this way. They have missed me growing into a man that I think they would like to have known. I have missed everything that has happened in their lives as well. When I went back to Idaho to see my family, I saw my two aunts. Both of them were quiet negative to me about being gay all those years ago, and were a big part of me divorcing myself from my family. But so many years have passed. One is close to eighty years old now, and I'm left wondering, why does any of it matter anymore?

I went to her home and she had invited others over as well. I was reminded that nothing had really changed. Kent was still thought of as “my friend”. The only thing that had changed is me. I now have confidence in who I am as a person. I'm no longer threatened by them. The other day at lunch, for some reason I was thinking all of this through. I had this strange thought that if something terrible happened to Kent, what would I do? Everything in my life here in New England is about us – our lives together. If that was no longer the case, would I leave this area and go back to Idaho to be around my family? What would be left here for me? What would be waiting there for me?

Of course, the clincher in all of this is that the impetus for the separation from my family revolved around a letter sent to me from my cousin. In that letter, she said, “You still have a family if you want one.” I reacted badly to that. I read it as, “You still have a family if you want one, as long as you can stop being such a damn homo”. It was actually quite unfair on my part. I knew that she was not homophobic. In fact, when she visited Kent and me in San Francisco, she marched with us in the gay pride parade, something that I had completely forgotten about after all these years, until she reminded me. But, in her letter, because of what I was going through at the time with my family, the meaning behind the letter was lost. To make a long story short, that was the straw that broke the camel's back for me. I didn't even answer the letter. I severed all ties from my family, with the exception of my brother.

Since I've returned from Idaho, I've been communicating with that cousin. The meaning behind that letter was about something completely different. It had more to do with things happening at the time in her life, but that is not the way I read it. It's odd that what caused the separation was a misunderstanding. But, the attitudes of my family, with the exception of that cousin, were homophobic. So, I guess there's a joke in there somewhere, but I can't find it.

I don't see this changing my attitude towards my family, but perhaps there is a future with me and my cousin. I'm open to that.

So when you write your ideas down in a letter, when you write your thoughts down in a blog, or even when you are talking to people, remember to choose your words wisely. Words are extremely powerful.

Finally, if you think someone loves you, give them the benefit of the doubt. They deserve that much.

I have been doing a lot of thinking about America, and a lot of soul searching about myself.

The dilemma for me is this. Why have I been so damn bothered about the whole gay marriage issue? It has really made no sense to me. Don't get me wrong. I would love nothing more than to marry Kent. I will be with him for the rest of my life. We are happy together. We have made a home together. He is my life partner and soul mate. Few people find that in this world.

So in that light, yes, I would like to get married. But me not being able to get married is not the worst thing that has happened to me in my life. Not even by a long shot. I have had the hell beat out of me because I'm gay, disowned by my family because I'm gay, had insults shouted at me from time to time for being a "fag", and many other things that seems to be part of what being homosexual is in America.

So it's no great surprise to me that America hates gay people, and gay men in particular. I've never understood whey many straight men find gay men despicable, but will get all excited at the prospect of seeing two lesbians having sex. Hello! It's still a couple of homosexuals going at it! But I digress.

If it is no great surprise to me that America hates homosexuals, why is it so very difficult for me to understand and deal with so many Americans thinking that the end of the world will be at hand if Kent and I get married?

The answer has absolutely nothing to do with homosexuality. I've accepted that people such as myself will not be accepted in America, at least for another generation or two. I've come to terms with that and I expect that. What I really am having a problem with has nothing to do with America's treatment of homosexuals, but rather the concept that in America today, it is okay if a segment of our population is treated by a separate standard.

Get over the fact that this group happens to be homosexuals for a minute. If the group were Asians, as an example, or Blacks, would it be acceptable to say to them, "You can't get married."? I don't think so. I can understand the concept of saying that, but America has been through this already. Black people used to have to sit in the back of the bus. They used to have to drink from separate water fountains and use separate bathrooms. And, not so long ago, they could not marry white folks. I thought that we were beyond that in American general society. I say general society because the only other place this kind of discrimination is today being practiced in America other than the general population is the U.S. Military with don't ask, don't tell.

The problem I'm having with the different states passing legislation against gay marriage and the President of the United states trying to pass a constitutional amendment against gay marriage, along with many other representatives and senators, is the notion that any group, ANY GROUP, can be singled out as being less than equal to others. And furthermore, it is not only acceptable but desirable that this happen.

That scares the hell out of me. I'm left wondering, where is the outrage among Americans concerning this? Are they willing to let this happen? What group will be next? Can they not see beyond the obvious that the real issue is not about preventing homosexuals from being married, but rather an issue of equality? Are we all that stupid and that easily lead? If we are, I would submit to you that the war on terror has already been won, and we are not the victors.

On a personal level, I have many straight friends. Actually, most all of my friends are straight, many of them married. They all say things like, "How can they do this?", or "I think it's terrible that there is so much hatred in this country." Only one of these people have said that they are going to do everything they can to stop this. Only one. Apparently, none of them are concerned enough about the concept of inequality to get up off their butts and start making calls to their Congressmen, the President, or their local state representatives. Perhaps it's apathy. Perhaps they feel that there are more pressing issues at hand, such as getting their nails done, walking their dog, or the war in Iraq. I can understand that I suppose.

And herein lies the problem. How do you get people to care about anything, as long as their own little world is intact? It's a tough question. It is now three years after September 11, 2001 and do any of us really give a damn that we are no safer now than we were then? Does anyone care that the President and Senator Kerry are so busy slamming each other's war records that the real issues that effect all of us are not being talked about?

I don't give a damn what happened thirty years ago with these two men. I really don't. I don't care if they smoked pot and did hookers on Saturday nights. I do care about what they can do to stabilize this country, but no one wants to talk about it. And, when the two of them do spar over an issue, the arguments are so filled with inaccuracies passed off as fact, that the dialog becomes nothing more than cheap shots that accomplish nothing.

How can they get away with this? Because America is uninformed and misinformed, and we like it that way. And if the Constitution of the United States gets in the way of what we want, we'll simply change the sucker. No sweat. We will not be stopped by stupid wording such as....

Full faith and credit shall be given in each state to the public acts, records, and judicial proceedings of every other state. And the Congress may by general laws prescribe the manner in which such acts, records, and proceedings shall be proved, and the effect thereof.

The citizens of each state shall be entitled to all privileges and immunities of citizens in the several states. [...]

No state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any state deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

That is from the Constitution of the United States of America. It really doesn't work for us anymore, so we are going to ignore that part and hopefully soon, put our own amendment in that says that we really don't have to treat our citizens equally.

America is in trouble more than it knows. I'm not talking about a President who doesn't seem to know or care where the line of separation of church and state is (why should he care when we don't?), or the Congress, who get red eyed and frothy at the mouth at the mere mention of gays or terrorists. I'm talking about people no longer caring about America. And that will be our end.

In the America that I grew up in, Americans actually did care for each other and cared more for our nation than ourselves. When did we lose that?

It's no secret. I haven't been writing as much since I returned from Idaho. I've been asking myself why. I think that returning to Idaho was a bigger shock to me than I realized. I've written on this site about things that happened during my early years in Idaho. I believe that we have to make the best out of life and move on. We all have things that happen to us that are unfortunate. We have to move on and look for what is important if we wish to build a good life for ourselves.

I believe all of that. I do. And the thing is, I thought that I had done that. But being back in my home town where some of worst things in my life happened, it made me realize some things.

I realize first of all that those events that happened so many years ago did happen. They are real, and I realize that I'm very angry about it. The anger is fresh now and I have to find some place to put that away.

Secondly, the person that I was is gone. He was the one that should have had resolution to these events. It is not possible now. What do I do with that?

Thirdly, the people there are in a time warp. I realized this when I talked with John, a man that I went to school with. We were good friends in high school. He started talking immediately about old memories and what it was like "back then". He had nothing new to share other than, "the place has changed a lot, but you can see that". Is this time warp they are in their own version of Hell? Do they have any idea that their lives are so small and they've done nothing with their lives? One could argue that my life is also small. I have not taken my career path in music in order to stay with my partner. But, I have traveled, lived in many very different places, and I do try to be involved in the world and to be active in trying to make the world a better place to live, for all of us.

John (my friend from Emmett), told me that he was married and had grown kids now, and he proceeded to ask if I were married. I said no. I told him I wasn't because the office was full of people who I knew wouldn't understand, and I didn't want to embarrass him. But after I got back home, I wrote John a letter explaining my life a bit.

Hi John.

This is Bill Cannon. It was good to see you again a couple of weeks ago. I have to apologize for just dropping in on you like that. I try to stay in touch with my friends from the past as well as my present friends. As I told you, I now live in Connecticut. I've been talking to a few people over the years online to try to stay in touch.

I was told by one of them that you now work for (name omitted) in Emmett. He sent me a link to the website for (name omitted). That was like six months ago. At any rate, I remembered the logo. I was driving through Emmett, and toured around a bit, seeing all the changes. On our way out of town, I spotted the (name omitted) sign on the left and had to stop to see if you were in. I didn't plan it, it just happened.

It was good to see you again. You haven't changed much but you seem to be more outgoing now than when you were a kid. I think I am also.

A few years ago I called you. I don't know if you remember that or not. You told me about your life and about being married to Teena. I had heard that you married a long time ago to Teena. You told me about your kids. And, you asked me if I was married. I said "no", but that's not really true. It bothered me at the time but I said nothing because I didn't feel you would understand.

Then, when we talked in Emmett a couple of weeks ago, you asked again if I was married. I said, "I have a partner". I quickly changed the subject.

I know how people in Idaho can be. I value your friendship John, and I want to be honest with you, even though I know that that honesty may cause you to not want to talk to me again. I am with someone. We've been together for 30 years now, this year. This is the hard thing to tell you John. The fact is, I'm gay. I always have been. My partner's name is Kent, and we have a home together in Connecticut.

Now that you know, I hope we can still be friends. I'm still the same old Bill that I always was. Nothing has changed. I've lost so many friends because of this and it's caused me to be very selective who my friends are. I no longer make friends easily. I choose them very carefully.

Anyway, I wanted you to know the truth. Friendship demands the truth. I didn't come to the class reunion because I didn't want everyone wondering why I wasn't married. I thought that would be torture. I don't know how you feel about gays. I hope at least for one gay, you can understand why it was hard for me to tell you.

I hope that you will understand and still be my friend.

Bill

That was sent on August 21, 2004. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that I haven't heard from him, and I think I should conclude that he no longer wants me as a friend. I suppose not a great surprise.

I left that place to find a new place for myself. I ended up in a place where I made new and dear friends, only to see them die of AIDS. When it was over, I wanted to leave San Francisco because it had become an ugly dark place, polluted by death. I said to myself, "I came here to start a new life, and for what? FOR WHAT?"

We moved to Connecticut to basically start over. But returning to Emmett, Idaho a few weeks ago has made me realize after all these years that it was all for a reason. Gaining my friends, and loosing my friends did not equal out to zero. What I ended up with was a profound knowledge of life itself and so many secrets of the human spirit that so many people will never understand or know. I also realized that I am no wuss! I am resilient and brave. And that took me close to forty years to realize.

God I am so lucky to have experienced that. Many of the people I lost spent their last breath with me. I remember Richard. I was called to his apartment. It was time. I walked in and others said, "He wants to say something to you." He could hardly talk because he was so weak. He couldn't get out of bed, so I laid down next to him. I put his arms around me, and I put my arms around him. That was what he was waiting for. With one breath he whispered to me in my ear, "I love you." His breath was gone. He voice was gone. He was quiet. And I whispered back, "Forever." That is the most profound definition of friendship. How can I say that it was for nothing? I laid there holding him and crying, with his dead warm body in my arms.

Will people in my home town who reminisce about what happened thirty years ago have a clue to that. No, they won't. They will always be simple, and they will never know the difference.

The very notion that these were American citizens getting sick and dieing and America not giving a damn or caring about it will not be understood by them other than the usual conservative diatribe that comes out of southern Idaho; they were queer, they deserved it, or kill a fag for Jesus, or AIDS is God's answer to homosexuality. I could go on and on, but the point has been made. And John has made the point once again by his lack of response to my letter.

So I say, let them have their ignorance. The loss is truly theirs. Perhaps this is what makes us equal. Perhaps I should consider this my revenge. They have the quandary of why people who have half a life don't come back to their high school reunions. You can share with them what your life is now, but only if it fits into their very narrow view of the world and what you should be.

I have enlightenment and I have PRIDE. Through it all, I still have hope that some day America will be able to see beyond our differences and care about us too. Some day.