About an anniversary

It's February 13. It was three years ago that Gavin Newsom gave county clerks permission, against the law, to grant marriage licenses to same-sex couples, and I was there.

I have to admit, I voted for that hippie, Matt Gonzales. I liked his Fillmore-style rock poster advertisements and I was very against Gavin. I had met him and I did not like his big, plastic hair, phony smile, and pretentious body guards in black suits and white shirts.

Now, I am glad that Gavin won.

I never imagined he would do something like grant same-sex marriages, in such an abrupt rebellion against the federal government. That is so punk rock. Who could have ever imagined such a thing from a rich, straight, Pacific Heights white boy? It makes me feel proud. It makes my heart soar, this idea that people who are in love, yet not allowed to get married because of some blind and confused religious right, were allowed to on two days in February, three years ago, in my town.

On February 13, 2004, my friend (D), married her boyfriend of 13 years. We arrived in a limo that day; just me, her fiance, her brother, sister and another couple of friends. Upon arrival, we saw an ever-widening line of people going all the way around the block. It was tremendous. (D) fretted when she saw the line, commenting on her bad judgement, to somehow pick the worst day in history to get married at city hall. All she wanted in a wedding was simplicity. But it wasn't long before we realized 8000 gay people are never a bad thing.

We entered the building and were led straight past the never-ending line, straight to a county clerk's desk, where we were immediately assigned a chapel. It was clearly unfair, but we held our breaths and did as we were told.

Once inside, the horde could not be heard and the ceremony was short and very sweet. Of course, I cried.

Afterwards, the big chapel doors were opened and we emerged: A very small party following a handsome couple - the girl in a pale pink dress, the guy in a black tuxedo with bow tie. We were met with something unexpected: a huge cheer rising up from the endless line of gay folks. They clapped and screamed and whooped and overwhelmed my friends with greetings of love and congratulations. It was unbelievable! The best reception one could ever dream of! As we walked the long hallway past everyone, the screaming and cheering and congratulations never died down. It was such a beautiful thing. I have pictures of my friends and they have the biggest smiles on their faces and their mouths are wide open in expressions of hilarious laughter and pure joy.

The true meaning of love was shown to us that day.

I will continue to support the idea that anyone who wants to get married, should. It's not who you marry, but that you love, that's important.

Cheers to Gavin, that plastic-haired frat boy. And love to my friends on their anniversary.

We are blessed.