Someone running for elected office in our home state contacted me the other day to say, “I heard that you and your partner got married. Congratulations. As you know, I am running for [position] and my team is creating ads to air as we run up to the primary election. Will you and your partner join us to be featured in our ad campaign?”<\/p>\n
My spouse<\/u> was sitting right next to me when I got this call. I put it on speaker so he could hear the conversation.
\n
\nMe: why us?<\/p>\n
Candidate: because I’m told that you guys epitomize the typical same-sex married couple. <\/p>\n
Me: define typical.<\/p>\n
Candidate: you own your own home, you have a good life. You guys work for a living. You contribute to your community. You entertain people of all stripes — not only gay, but straight or trans or whatever.<\/p>\n
Me: Entertain? Who told you that?<\/p>\n
Candidate: I couldn’t come to your Thanksgiving dinner last year<\/a>, but I wanted to. I heard it was a smashing success.<\/p>\n Me: that’s something that I do for older friends who would otherwise be alone. We do not invite political candidates or elected officials, though [U.S. Senator] dropped by, but that was to give me a recognition plaque. Last thing we want is that kind of attention, and my friends are not to be hounded by politicians running for office. <\/p>\n Candidate: that’s not what I intended to do. I just wanted to come to say hello. But back to the point — your parties are well-regarded in the community.<\/p>\n Me: we don’t have parties. Once a year, I host a pot-luck for senior pals, and that’s it.<\/p>\n Candidate: [pause] … you mean, you don’t have dinner parties for your friends?<\/p>\n Me: nope. [by then, the spouse was signaling me to end the call. He had enough.]<\/p>\n Candidate: [won’t stop] Well, anyway, you guys are just regular, normal gay guys who got married and we’d like to feature that in our ad.<\/p>\n Me: tell me, what are “normal gay guys?” Are there non-normal gay guys?<\/p>\n Candidate: that’s not what I meant. (hum, haw, scramble) Sorry, no offense. It’s just that you guys fit the demographic for our ad. You represent a typical household, that’s all.<\/p>\n Me: [not wanting to argue, but I also had enough] Sorry, but no. We do not want to be featured in a political ad. Period. We do not want that level of attention.<\/p>\n Candidate: but you’d be helping your community. You know…<\/p>\n Me: [not wanting to parse the word “your” but thinking he meant the gay community, rather than the neighborhood where we live] No.<\/p>\n Candidate: we can offer to pay you scale for your time.<\/p>\n Me: No.<\/p>\n Candidate: what would it take to get you guys to say yes?<\/p>\n Me: Nothing. I said no, and I mean it. <\/p>\n Candidate: why?<\/p>\n Me: We do not engage with politics. It’s ugly and I’ve been burned terribly before. My spouse doesn’t want any form of recognition or visibility, and neither do I. I said no, and I mean it.<\/p>\n Candidate: [won’t give up] You are our number 1 choice. Really, won’t you reconsider?<\/p>\n Me: I betcha you say that to all the guys. But the answer remains no.<\/p>\n Candidate: will you think about it and call me back if you change your mind?<\/p>\n Me: we’ve thought about it. The answer is no. Goodbye. [then I hung up.]<\/p>\n Spouse: you stayed on the call much longer than I would have. Sheesh… [rolls eyes.]<\/p>\n Life is short: the consequences of such attention are unwanted. Thanks, but no thanks.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Someone running for elected office in our home state contacted me the other day to say, “I heard that you and your partner got married. Congratulations. As you know, I am running for [position] and my team is creating ads … Continue reading