DOMA and Proposition 18 Struck Down by the Supreme Court

We used to dance at BOB'S BISTRO A-GO-GO near Old Town on Wells Avenue.  One would go down a dark alley having to know which door to knock on since there was no entrance area and no sign. The door would open a crack and if you looked "right" you were let in. This was the late 1960's and 70s.

The bar was a large, open, unattractive, not necessarily clean room with a juke box in one corner and a makeshift plywood bar. The club was rumored to be owned and protected by the Maffia but we were grateful to have a place we could call our own. The place would be populated with wall to wall gay men and women trying to enjoy an evening with friends, drinking, dancing, and yes listening to Donna Summers, doing "Poppers," and possibly smoking "Weed." 

The fear of the bar's being raided was always in the air and in glances over one's shoulder towards the door. The unspoken word was that if "RAID" was announced, each "faggot" would grab the nearest "dyke" as a dancing partner. The "boy/girl" approach would save you from being herded off to the waiting paddy wagons, taken to the Chicago Avenue lockup, photographed, and identified. If you were "clean" charges would not be pressed and you would be released.

If you were underage, had drugs on your person, or fought back physically or verbally against the police you were in big trouble. If you were not in big trouble you WERE in big trouble anyways because your name was published in the "GAY BAR RAID" article in the Chicago Sun Times or Tribune,  your family might find out, and if your employers sound out, most likely you would be fired. 

Those were the days. The Supreme Court's striking down of Proposition 18 and DOMA is cause for celebration. We've come a long way baby but there is still a lot of change necessary. There are many parts of the country (world) where being gay still means discrimination, abuse (verbal and physical,) and possibly death.

Then again Jews, Blacks, Muslims, Latinos, various other ethnic groups and minorities, etc etc etc also continue to long for freedom, equality, and peace. This doesn't even begin to take into account the continuing fight for Women's Rights! There will always be differences and disagreement between people of the various religions, cultures, races, sexes, sexual preferences, etc. 

There will always be fanatics with whom we will have to deal, but slowly if each one of us tries to be tolerant of others, and learns to live with individual differences -- we will get closer and closer to being able to be who we are or need to be. By respecting other's rights, we will gain respect from others for ours.

So many of us are saying, "Who would have believed that in our life time...." Maybe we should be optimistic and hope for more and continued, bigger and better.

Michael and Gregory

George Hnilicka RIP

George, father and father-in-law of our dear friends John and Chuck, passed away after a long illness at the age of 84. His wife Reene died five years earlier. Gregory and I attended his funeral mass in Racine, Wisconsin. The Hnilicka family has been part of our family for three plus decades so it was important and meaningful for us to be at the mass.

Many of the family members participated in the mass and they had selected the various readings and musical pieces that were used during the mass. It lasted approximately 90 minutes.

I found myself analyzing the mass, funeral, and celebration of George's life. I found myself doing this in relation to what I had missed, not having attended the funeral of my own mother and father. While Gregory and I did our own form of celebration of their life, it felt very lonely. On the kitchen counter, where we also eat our meals, we set up an alter for each parent in their turn (March 5 2005 for dad and March 27 2010 for mom) which included burning a 24 hour candle next to their picture and a vase of beautiful flowers. Gregory and I lit the candle holding hands, said a few words of love, shed a few tears of sadness, and ended with, "Well good for her (him,) she (he) found their way out." We spend our breakfasts, lunches, and dinners for the next few days with our memories as reflected by the alter.

Our experience at George's mass was quite different. Being in church, there was a prescribed order, based on the tenants of the Catholic Church. The order was predictable, familiar, and comforting to the family. Each prayer found its proper place after the casket was rolled to the front of the church, escorted by George's extended family, for one last time. To the family, the songs were familiar, the prayers were familiar, the mass was familiar. The beliefs were united. Faith pervaded.

The priest would say, "May God be with you." and the congregation would reply, "And with you." People knew when to cross themselves, when to rise, when to be seated. There were comforting thoughts, music, candle light, responsive reading. At one point everyone wished those around them peace with hugs or hand shakes exchanged, sometimes with total strangers.

In this house of worship, most of the people in the congregation knew each other, had helped celebrate the life and death of the other congregants, had attended Sunday, holiday, special masses, had attended religious classes, had grown up together and were born or passed away each in their time.

For the most part the thoughts and prayers were appropriate and not too erroneous. Stories of an afterlife and future for the departed, the deceased's now peaceful repose, the walking hand in hand with Jesus were retold again and were familiar. They comforted if only because of their multiple repetitions over the years.

Whether one believes in any of what a religion has to say, loosing oneself in the dogma and stories of the church for at least a brief period of time has its place in the face of the mysterious, painful, sad, incomprehensible question and mourning of the death of a loved one.

When one does not have that support only the mystery, inability to really understand what death is all about, possible fear, and lonliness exists. The ceremonies are for the living. The dead are already well on their way. The older I get, the more I realize the value of tradition and ceremony, friends and family.

It's The Little Things

My day today started out with the usual cup of coffee, piece of toast, and interacting with my computer. I left the condo at approximately 11:20 to walk to my therapist appointment which is just 10 minutes away. The morning ended at about 1:30 as I was sitting in the Chandler's Building Plaza across from the condo having a Jumba Juice and listening to a street performer singing and playing his amplified guitar.

As I was sitting with my drink, I thought of all the little things that had occurred thus far in my day that if noticed were joyful, magical, and/or felt good. I decided to write this blog based on that thought and perhaps compile an ongoing list in future blogs.

It's The Little Things That Matter


1. An interaction with the Starbucks barista on "running late."

2. Interesting session with my therapist. Laughter. Political discussion. World weariness. Feeling even. Planning our trip to Mexico.

3. Noticing the beautiful, creative windows in a dress shop.

4. Getting my hair cut.

5. Getting a manicure that ended with a shoulder massage.

6. Interacting with the Jumba Juice employee.

7. Enjoying my Jumba Juice while listening to a street performer.

8. Visiting briefly with Gregory as he passed me on the way to a walk.

9. Discussing the street construction with an Evanston Public Works employee to find out that they were abandoning a leaking gas line and re-routing the gas to a newer line.

10. Thanking the front desk person at my condo as I picked up a package.

11. Walking into my air conditioned condo after being out in the sun and hot weather.

12. Being greeted by my kitty (actually 15+ years old.)

That's all one has to do is stop to notice the little good things that occur so frequently and the difficult things will seem small.

Adeline Horvich. R.I.P. March 27, 2010

Seasonal Changes

Today was the last day of our Christmas Season. All of the entertaining is done, all the presents given and those received unwrapped. Most of the homemade cookies gone: Peanut Butter, Oatmeal Raisin, Date Nut Bars, Walnut Balls, Chocolate Walnut Balls, Snickerdoodles, Chocolate Chip, Brownie Bites. Tomorrow we take down the decorations.

As much as we love the holidays and decorations and celebrations and entertaining, we also enjoy putting everything away until next season and getting our life back to normal. The house always seems so much more orderly and spacious when all of the Christmas is tucked back into boxes and put back on the shelves in the laundry room above the washer and dryer.

Now is the time to pick up all the projects that have been put on hold as well as the time to reflect on last year and the possibilities of next year. This week Gregory and I are preparing for an art show at our friend's Jan & Jake's IN THE TABLE GALLERY. Carmen at the Lyric Opera of Chicago, and my role as a supernumerary continues again for eight performances in March. The count down until the opening of my Michael's Museum at The Chicago Children's Museum on Navy Pier begins in earnest: Friday, May 13, 2011. Writing continues. Photography continues. Work on "As Assembly of Assemblages" which opens on June 1, 2011 at the Lincolnwood Village Hall Gallery will go on simultaneously.

Life is busy. Life is good.

Surprise

Ever since we began celebrating Christmas together, I buy Christmas gifts for Gregory and I buy myself gifts from Gregory. Works out well for both of us.

This year I purchased myself an 11" MacBook Air. Instead of beginning to use it two weeks ago when it was purchased, I wrapped up the computer in beautiful red and green foil paper, red ribbon, and a large red satin bow. It is sitting under the Christmas Tree to be opened on Christmas Eve. Every now and then I pick up the box and shake it to see if I can figure out what the gift inside is. I want to be surprised.

Christmas Day at Grandma's

At noon Christmas Day, we would arrive at Grandma’s house feeling like we had just left a few hours before from celebrating Christmas Eve. The dining room table would be redecorated with a different table cloth, a different set of dishes, fresh flowers, and little aging holiday decorations sprinkled around the table top. The turkey would have been in the oven since early morning and would be ready to go at noon. No easy feat considering Grandma’s age and the previous night’s festivities which lasted until two or three in the morning, although Frieda, Clara, and Frieda’s lesbian daugher, Marge, (although no one ever talked about it) were always a great help.

Besides the amazing array of food she presented for her Christmas afternoon dinner, what remains most in my mind are the home made popcorn balls on the desk, the after meal nap that all the men took in the living room while slouched on the maroon mohair sofa or in their maroon mohair chairs, and the sounds from the kitchen of the women laughing while cleaning up from dinner. There are at least two “famous” stories that came out of those memories.

The first story has to do with washing the dishes after dinner. One sister brought the scraped dishes in from the dinning room, one sister did the washing, one sister did the drying, and Marge put the clean dishes back on the dinning room table, ready to be put away in the breakfront. As I am writing this I can see Grandma’s kitchen as if it still existed and a tear or two well up.

This particular story deals with the year that the sisters and Marge were so involved in their stories, punctuated with so much laughter, that the dishes made three rounds of being brought in from the dinning room, washed, dried, put back on the dining room table ready to be put away, and unknowingly being brought back into the kitchen to be washed, dried, and put back again.

If  you think the women were laughing and having a good time before, you can imagine how much laughter there was when they realized what had happened.

The second story deals with the traditional Christmas Date Nut Pudding which was Grandma’s specialty. It was served fresh out of the oven with a warm carmel sauce. Imagine the most delicious tastes, for the most traditional holiday, made by the most nurturing Grandma, and helped by the most loving sisters and Marge. That was Grandma’s Date Nut Pudding. Warm, sweet, delicious. 

This particular story takes place over several years, as Grandma and her sisters got older. One year they forgot to make the carmel sauce for the Date Nut Pudding. The next year they forgot to add the nuts to the Date Nut Pudding. Finally, one year, they forgot to put the dates in the Date Nut Pudding.

The Christmas Miracle, I guess, is that each year they were careful not to make the previous year’s mistake and each year with the new mess up, they were so tickled that they laughed all the way through cleaning up from dinner.

I think it was the year they forgot the dates that they laughed so long and so hard that they ended up washing and drying the same dishes three times. I miss those Christmases. 

Christmas Eve at Grandma's

Despite the carols, shopping, gift wrapping, and cookie baking, the Christmas Season never really began for me until Christmas Eve with Grandma Anna Kleinhoffer. She was Bob, my first partner’s grandmother and she was part of my life for 13 years before she died.

Bob and I would drive up from Chicago through the early evening snow. We would look forward to arriving at Grandma’s house, which was just down the block from Bob’s parents Robert and Dorothy in Joliet, Illinois.We never knew if Dorothy would join the festivities or if she would raise a big “stink,” not wanting to go to her mother-in-law’s, and if she would go, mope the rest of that Christmas when Robert went to his Mother’s Christmas Eve without her.

When we arrived at Grandma’s at ten o’clock, the 88 year old matriarch would have had her artificial tree assembled and decorated and the rest of the house scattered with aging decorations and other holiday memories. The desk in the dining room would be heaped with candy, cookies, and popcorn balls and the dining room table clothed and set. The ham would be in the oven and all the side dishes ready on the side board.

Dressed in her finest, wearing her Christmas apron, she would embrace each of us in turn and pass out her wet kisses. Next came kisses from her sisters Frieda and Clara and Frieda’s lesbian daugher, Marge, (although no one ever talked about it.) 

Shortly after our arrival (Bob, his dad, me, and sometimes Dorothy) we would sit down to eat. More food then you might want to eat so late at night but none-the-less delicious and tradition laden. The meal was in preparation for attending midnight mass at Grandma’s church which was right across the street from her house.

After mass (fun for a Jewish boy) we would come back to the house for a glass of wine and dessert. By two or three in the morning, we would rush home to Robert and Dorothy’s so we could get some rest before the big Christmas Day meal at noon.

Holiday Distinctions

                         HOLIDAY DISTINCTIONS

By: Anonymous

 1. Christmas is one day, same day every year: December 25.  Jews also love December 25th. It's another paid day off work. We go to movies and out for Chinese food, and Israeli dancing. Chanukah is 8 days. It starts the evening of the 24th of Kislev, whenever that falls.  No one is ever sure. Jews never know until a non-Jewish friend asks when Chanukah starts, forcing us to consult a calendar so we don't look like idiots. We all have the same calendar, provided free with a donation from either the World Jewish Congress, the kosher butcher, or the local Sinai Memorial Chapel (especially in Florida) or other Jewish funeral home.

 2. Christmas is a major holiday. Chanukah is a minor holiday with the same theme as most Jewish holidays: They tried to kill us, we survived, let's eat. Christians get wonderful presents such as jewelry, perfume, stereos. Jews get practical presents such as underwear, socks, or the collected works of the Rambam, which looks impressive on the bookshelf.

3. There is only one way to spell Christmas.  No-one can decide how to spell Chanukah, Chanukah, Chanukka, Channukah, Hanukah, Hannukah. Christmas is a time of great pressure for husbands and boyfriends. Their partners expect special gifts.  Jewish men are relieved of that burden.  No one expects a diamond ring on Chanukah.

4. Christmas brings enormous electric bills.  Candles are used for Chanukah.  Not only are we spared enormous electric bills, but we get to feel good about not contributing to the energy crisis. 

5. Christmas carols are beautiful. Silent Night, Come O Ye Faithful.... Chanukah songs are about dreidels made from clay or having a party and dancing the hora.  Of course, we are secretly pleased that many of the beautiful carols were composed and written by our tribal brethren.  And don't Barbara Streisand and Neil Diamond sing them beautifully?

6. A home preparing for Christmas smells wonderful.  The sweet smellof cookies and cakes baking.  Happy people are gathered around infestive moods.  A home preparing for Chanukah smells of oil, potatoes, and onions.  The home, as always, is full of loud people, all talking at once.

7. Women have fun baking Christmas cookies.  Women burn their eye and cut their hands grating potatoes and onions for latkes on Chanukah.  Another reminder of our suffering through the ages. 

8. Parents deliver to their children during Christmas.  Jewish parents have no qualms about withholding a gift on any of the eight nights.

9. The players in the Christmas story have easy to pronounce names such as Mary, Joseph, and Jesus.  The players in the Chanukah story are Antiochus, Judah Maccabee, and Matta..... whatever.  No one can spell it or pronounce it.  On the plus side, we can tell our friends anything, and they believe we are wonderfully versed in our history .

10. Many Christians believe in the virgin birth.  Jews think, "Joseph, Bubela, snap out of it.  Your woman is pregnant, you didn't sleep with her, and now you want to blame G-d.  Here's the number of my shrink".

11. In recent years, Christmas has become more and more commercialized.  The same holds true for Chanukah, even though it is a minor holiday.  It makes sense.  How could we market a major holiday, such as Yom Kippur?  Forget about celebrating.  Think observing.  Come to synagogue, starve yourself for 27 hours, become one with your dehydrated soul, beat your chest, confess your sins, a guaranteed good time for you and your family.  Tickets a mere $200 per person.  Better stick with Chanukah!

Singing from Behind: A Christmas Story

The Holiday Season never begins until the first Saturday in December at Roger’s annual Christmas Party. One is always able to count on a delicious home made dinner, home baked cookies, fond friends (some seen only once a year at this event,) and a festive atmosphere filled with love. On the “perfect each year” fresh Christmas Tree decorated with old fashioned lights, there are ornaments from his family that go back generations and from his many friends that go back a lifetime. 

His home has added touches of Christmas everywhere. There is a bit on tinsel on top of a picture frame and small red and green foil boxes held in the arms of a Plaster Putti in the bathroom. There is a snow globe on the dining room table that plays music and a forest of various types of miniature trees on the shelf above his kitchen counter. On a folding table in a corner of the living room there is his family’s antique nativity scene and in the bedroom a second, foil Christmas Tree very much in the style of Charlie Brown.

Everywhere you look, there is love and Christmas and thirty or so people enjoying their time with Roger in the big sense of home which he has created in his small apartment.

Another tradition at the party celebrates his Jewish friends. In the beginning of this party, that goes back at least thirty or so years, since they never got to do it in their own home the Jews got to put the lights on the Christmas Tree, but based on a lack of experience with things Christmas, they usually did a very poor job of it. After many years of having to rearrange the lights after the party, Roger decided that this part of the tradition had to go!

Hanukkah dreidels, “gelt” in the form of gold foil wrapped chocolate coins, and the lighting of the Menorah have continued. By now the non-Jews have learned the blessing over the lighting of the candles and joyously join in the singing.

As I squeezed in to join the singing, Lisa tried to make room for me but there were so many people grouped around the Menorah that I told her, “I’ll just sing from behind.” Giggling, she said that my comment sounded like the title of a short story: “Singing from Behind.” This then is that story. 

Morning

Morning. 


Sitting in front of my computer. Writing. Steaming hot coffee waiting. Intermittently savored. 


Muffled sounds coming from the kitchen. Gregory making his breakfast. The sound of keys clicking. The hum of a vacuum cleaner works its way past the unit entry door. Housekeeping. Coffee. Writing. 


Ding, dong, ding, dong. Quarter past announced by Helen's grandmother's clock in the guest room. Toast being spread with butter. Milk being poured. His throat cleared. A chair scraping the floor boards. Coffee. Writing. 


Thinking. Proof reading. Saving. Publishing. Good morning. Another day to celebrate life.

Bon Voyage Party

This evening's party was quite a success. It took a lot of energy, shopping, preparation, and planning spread out over the last three days. It will take another two to get all the dishes, glasses, etc back where they belong.

The occasion was to celebrate Regina and Declan's  upcoming wedding that will take place in Italy. Three other friends will be joining them there for the ceremony and then staying on in Italy for two months. One more will join the group over the Christmas and New Year holidays. After some thirty years, the Gay Family will not be together for the major end of the year holidays so it was wonderful to be with everyone before the Italian adventures began.

On arrival white and red wine and soft drinks were served. A tray with two types of salsa and chips as well as one of crackers with two types of cheese were available. The 100" table (that usually serves as Gregory's desk) was set, including flowers and candles, still against the wall where it usually lives, to be moved into the middle of the room when it was time it eat. The end of the counter was set for four more and a table for six was set and waiting in the bedroom closet to be brought into the living room at dinner time. Folding chairs were at the ready.

We did a sit down dinner, served buffet style for twenty people. Arrival was scheduled at 4:00 with dinner served at 5:00. The timing on the food was perfect. The corn pudding was in the crock pot from 1:00 until 5:00. The spiral cut ham was in the oven from 1:00 until 4:00 and then sat until dinner time. The pre-cooked turkey breast was warmed from 4:00 until 5:00. The haricot vert (french green beans) provincial were cooked yesterday and warmed in the oven from 4:00 until 5:00. The yams were peeled earlier today and cooked in brown sugar and orange juice between 4:00 and 5:00, and finished off in the microwave. Bread was warmed in the oven with the other 4:00 - 5:00 items. Roger made a cranberry horseradish moose and combined the Romain, lemon, olive oil, and kosher salt making a Tuscan salad. By 5:15 everyone was seated and enjoying a delicious meal. Gregory and I were so proud!

A milestone at this party is that Ivanca, our housekeeper, was here to help with last minute prep before the party, to take coats and serve drinks, and then to pour water after people were sitting. She joined us for dinner and then worked throughout the rest of the party cleaning up. What a blessing and valued part of our family she is.

Dessert consisted of a chocolate Devil's food sheet cake, double layered with chocolate moose in between, and with chocolate butter cream frosting. Huge pieces of cake were served with vanilla ice cream. People commented on how huge the cake portions were … but ate it all. Only Regina shared her cake with Declan but that is understandable as she said, "I do have to fit into my wedding dress you know." Finally, more wine and coffee and visiting.

Parties like this are not done too often. The labor and energy toll is extensive. The expense wasn't even calculated. But being able to "share the love" with people you care for in the "sanctity of one's home" is such a joyful gift. We are grateful for being able to have done this.