1. It’s Monday, June 29, 2015.
2. Eight years ago today, Apple introduced the iPhone. Also known as my second brain.
3. Steven Matz. It’s a good day to be a Met fan. For a change.
4. I’m elated about the Supreme Court decision on same-sex marriage. But since the decision, I’ve asked myself how it came to pass that I think this is a really good thing — when I know there was a time in my adult life when I would have felt otherwise. What was the process that convinced me that every adult has the right to marry another adult who they love?
I’m not the only one who’s “evolved” on this issue — “evolved” being the word President Obama used to describe his own position on the matter. I think there are three revelations that got me to this point.
The first is the most important. It’s love. It’s my good fortune to love the woman to whom I’ve been married for 29 years and almost two months. When I think about the quality and depth of that love, it would be selfish to think that I’m the only one entitled to it.
And when I think about how much I dislike dogs, asparagus and fireworks, I realize that everyone has different ideas on liking and loving. So the first revelation is the idea that you’re entitled to like what you like and love who you love.
But there are opponents of same-sex marriage who share that viewpoint of love. So the second revelation has to do with the so-called “sanctity” of marriage.
Several years back, there was a story about a celebrity who went on a weekend bender and married an acquaintance of the opposite sex. And a few days, after the hangover, the couple divorced. It generated the usual gossip column wink and public attention.
But it hit me differently. This happened about the time that same-sex couples were beginning to pursue court cases and seek legislation allowing them to wed. The couples that were challenging the status quo were often people who had been together in loving relationships for decades. They had celebrated triumphs and endured hardships, the same way my wife and I have.
So how is the relationship such as that of the celebrity couple, formulated in bourbon or cocaine, more legitimate in the eyes of the law than one forged in love and tested by the complexities of two people’s lives? I couldn’t answer that question other than to say that I saw more of what I believe marriage is about in the same-sex couple.
The third revelation is the embarrassment of being on the other side of this issue. Who are you with when you oppose same-sex marriage? The Westboro Baptist Church. Ted Cruz. Ann Coulter. And that citadel of matrimonial sanctity, Donald Trump. When those are the people expressing themselves in strong opposition to something, you almost automatically know the other side of the argument is the right one. You’re obligated by God or, if you don’t believe in God, whatever moral force drives your universe to believe the opposite.
Marriage is great. The bond to someone you love more than anyone or anything else makes joy more joyful and pain more bearable. And the conclusion you reach when you think about it — really, seriously think about it — isn’t to ask why should people of the same sex be allowed to marry. It’s why shouldn’t they.