Tag Archives: Gay Marriage

How SCOTUS Saved Me $10,000

BCCardWe’re working on our taxes for last year, and while it’s not deductible, I went ahead and totaled up my health insurance costs from 2013.  For about the last decade I’ve been one of the millions of Americans without company sponsored health insurance, so I’ve had an individual Blue Cross policy.

And for the last several years, my premiums have gone up $100 a month. Not a year. A month. With a $2800 deductible. Even my doctor was shocked, given my relatively minor health issues. Last year my premiums totaled $10,185.70. Just for me.

So among the things Dave and I were celebrating when we married back in July, was the fact that, thanks to the Supreme Court, I could then be added to his excellent health plan for retired federal workers. Under which BOTH of us would be covered, without a deductible, for $200 a month.

We filled out the forms, faxed in our marriage certificate and waited. For six months. While the feds tried to figure out just what to do with these newly recognized same-gender couples. (Six more premiums for me—do the math.)

But at long last the card has arrived.  And I handed it over to the pharmacy tech the other day to update my account.

“What’s your relationship to Mr. Johnson?” he asked, noting Dave’s name on the card. And for the first time with a stranger, I smiled and answered, “I’m his spouse.”

Our Day at the Supreme Court

DCWeddingWeb

Some of our merry band of family and friends.

Okay, so there was a moment earlier this month when my faith waivered. Could it be that God really does like Pat Robertson better than me? Could it be that the great something out there somewhere really does listen to that scumbag’s prayers?

If you’ve been following along, you know that Dave and I took advantage of my home state of Iowa’s long legacy of of social justice and were married there this summer. But since it was the Supreme Court’s landmark decision that gave that marriage some real practical benefits for us after 22 years together, and since we were headed to D. C. anyway to see daughter Meredith, we decided that we wanted a ceremony in front of the Supreme Court building as well.

It was to be another small affair, just a few local friends, my daughters and some of Dave’s family members who wanted to celebrate with us but couldn’t join us in Iowa.

What fun it would be. The family would fly in, we’d tour the Smithsonian and the monuments, then we’d all taxi over to the Supreme Court for a brief, informal, (but no less meaningful) ceremony—followed by a gathering back at Meredith’s nearby home.

(Imagine foreboding music here.)

And then the government shut down (I won’t assign blame, that’s for another discussion) and the remnants of Tropical Storm Karen decided to stall off of the North Carolina coast—pumping one rainy day after another into the DC area.

Dave was so upset I feared he’d have a stroke before we could make it to week’s end.  The delightful celebration we’d envisioned seemed to have been washed away by a disapproving diety.

Oh me of little faith.

As it turned out—there was plenty for the family to do when they arrived. The fascinating Federal Reserve was open just down the street from the family’s hotel (they make money, so I guess they’re not dependent on congress.) Arlington Cemetery was of course open, and perhaps a somewhat rainy day is the best time to appreciate this tribute to those who’ve served.

The National Cathedral was open as well, which despite its name, receives no government funding. “If you’ve ever doubted the separation of church and state,” quipped the tour guide, “Please note that we’re open.”

While I may question some folk’s conclusions about the culprit for the National Park closures, I must admit we benefitted from the “storming” of the monuments on that Sunday and the removal of the barricades.

When the day of the celebration arrived the forecast still included a 40% chance of rain. It drizzled all morning as we made final preparations for that night, moving things inside from the planned courtyard party.

And then the rains stopped.

We grabbed our umbrellas just in case, and cabs to the Supreme Court building.  The guards smiled as are small group gathered near their guardhouse.  A couple of Japanese tourists stepped right up and joined our merry band with their cameras.

And our dear friend and Unitarian minister Charlie commenced to marry us…again.

Faith restored. Off to the party.

Pigs. Corn. Equality.

It was Dave's first trip to the Iowa Capitol too.

It was Dave’s first trip to the Iowa Capitol too.

“Well it’s about time,” the tour guide quipped when I explained that although I grew up in Iowa, lo these many years later, this was my first time to see its state capitol building.

The dome is just as impressive from the inside as from the outside.

The dome is just as impressive from the inside as from the outside.

And what a palace of a statehouse it is. 330,000 square feet of marble floors, hand-painted frescos, Italian tile murals and hand carved woodwork. All topped with a huge dome covered in 23 karat gold leaf.

Dave and I looked at each other and had exactly the same reaction: How did they convince a bunch of frugal farmers to do let them build this?

One of the panels from the display in the State Historical Museum detailing Iowa's long history of social justice.

One of the panels from the display in the State Historical Museum detailing Iowa’s long history of social justice.

At the state historical museum next door, there was a particularly inspiring exhibit which reminded me that, besides frugality, Iowans have another core value:

A long history of social justice.

In 1839 when a Missouri slave owner came to retrieve a slave from Iowa, its supreme court ruled “No man in this territory can be reduced to Slavery.” The U.S. Supreme court later overturned that ruling.

In 1869 Iowa was the first state to admit a woman to the bar.

My alma mater The University of Iowa was the first public university to grant a law degree to a woman (1873) and to an African American (1879), and the first to put an African American student on a varsity  athletic squad. It also had the first female college newspaper editor in 1907 and was the first state university to recognize an LGBT student organization.

There was at least one moment of frugality in the capitol building. Iowa got a great deal on this bronze after it was rejected by Illinois officials for their capitol because it was too scantily clad.

There was at least one moment of frugality in the capitol building. Iowa got a great deal on this bronze after it was rejected by Illinois officials for their capitol because it was too scantily clad.

In  a case before the court in 1868, the Iowa Supreme Court held that “separate” was not “equal” and ordered an African-American admitted to the public schools. This effectively integrated Iowa’s schools 96 years before the federal court decision, Brown v. the Board of Education in Topeka, did the same thing.

The first permanent mosque in North America was built in Cedar Rapids.

In 1939, while most of the world still turned its back on Jews attempting to flee the Nazis (including the U.S. government) the tiny Quaker community just down the road from where we’re camped this trip created a hostel that took in 186 refugees.

Yes, Iowa's first ladies were all clones. At least the dolls depicting them are in this display of inaugural gowns at the capitol. The display was First Ladie Billie Ray's idea, and the dolls were all cast from a mold of her face. The real Billie Ray is the one with the fur and the saucy hairdo.

Yes, Iowa’s first ladies were all clones. At least the dolls depicting them are, in this display of inaugural gowns at the capitol. The display was First Ladie Billie Ray’s idea, and the dolls were all cast from a mold of her face. The real Billie Ray is the one with the fur and the saucy hairdo.

 

 

And of course, four years ago the Iowa Supreme Court ruled that the state’s constitution did not discriminate against any of its citizens, including same sex couples—making it one of the first states to embrace marriage equality. Wedding

And so it is that while we’re on this stop of our journey—Dave and I have chosen to exercise that right. We were married this afternoon in the historic Johnson County Courthouse.

Mountain Musings

Best_of_the_lovin_spoonfulAwhile back I posted a note to Facebook about how delighted I was that Jerry Yester, formerly with 1960s rock band The Lovin’ Spoonful, was playing the piano at a restaurant where we were dining in Eureka Springs…which is near where Jerry now lives.

“Wow what a has-been,” responded one of my Facebook buddies. A cruel remark from someone who really isn’t.  It made me realize how easy it is to buy in to assumptions embedded everywhere in our culture.

The band you once played in isn’t at the top of the charts anymore. And now you play piano for a small, but equally delighted audience near your home in the beautiful Ozark Mountains. Is this life any less deserving of admiration?  I think not.

The noted blues legend Henry Gray is in his eighties now and still tours. But when he’s not, he’s happy to play piano at the Piccadilly Cafeteria in Baton Rouge, where I often had lunch.  He does so because it gives him a much pleasure as it did the patrons.

The audience was very much in on the joke and applauded riotously when Jeerk performed their encore dance routine using walkers.

The audience was very much in on the joke and applauded riotously when Jeerk performed their encore dance routine using walkers.

When we made not one, but two visits to Branson during our stay here in southern Missouri, there were several comments about the place that all “the old people go to,” where the shows were “schmaltzy.”

And yes we did attend a magic show, where the final illusion had as its big reveal a giant mock-up of the stone tablets with the ten commandments (and where the magician invited the audience back on Sunday morning to hear him preach.)

But we also saw a very talented young Swedish rock band, (who happened to be astonishingly good tap-dancers as well.)

Dave pauses for a photo-op before heading in for his chicken fried steak dinner.

Dave pauses for a photo-op before heading in for his chicken fried steak dinner.

And yes, we did eat chicken-fried steak at the restaurant with the giant rooster out front. But we also dined at a mountaintop restaurant on the stunningly beautiful campus of College of the Ozarks, on campus-raised pork medallions served over polenta made from cornmeal ground in the campus gristmill, and garnished with vegetables grown in the campus greenhouses.

Student operated gristmill on the campus of College of the Ozarks.

Student operated gristmill on the campus of College of the Ozarks.

And yes, there were a lot of old people there. Old people who despite the need to use a cane, or a walker or a wheelchair—were out having the time of their lives.

As we slowly evolve into a society that embraces equality for all, and as important as I believe the current struggle for marriage equality to be, I’m reminded that ageism remains deeply imbedded deep in our culture, and that we must be ever vigilant in our quest to end it as well.

Love. Different. Equal.

ClownOrnament

The confluence of our preparations for the road and today’s Supreme Court proceedings has pointed to an interesting coincidence in the provenance of the two treasures above.

The vintage wooden clown was a birthday gift from my first spouse Donna, to whom I was married for a long while and with whom I share two amazing children. The kinetic yard ornament is a birthday gift from Dave, who has been at my side for the last two decades. Each was spotted while I was in the company of the spouse in question. In each case a discussion followed which reasonably concluded that it would be silly to spend the amount asked, for something so impractical.

And in each case the spouse in question snuck back and purchased the impractical. Knowing how much delight it would bring to their sometimes impractical spouse.

I love Donna today as much as ever, but in a wiser way that comes of age and a better understanding of who I am. My love for Dave is the kind that comes from knowing there is no kinder, more caring person anywhere with whom I could spend my life.

Each love different. Each love equal.

As I hope the Supreme Court comes to understand.

The big wooden clown, heavy as he is, isn’t suited for nomadic life and has gone off to live with daughter Jennifer for a spell.  The yard ornament will be coming along to be planted in whatever ground we land upon at any particular point in our voyage—claiming it as home.