This is the definition of family

I arrived home around 8:30 this evening and saw the item in my calendar about city fireworks display this evening. I had seen raindrops on the way home and saw drops on my deck. So I checked the weather map. It showed the eastern edge of rain coming over the city. Well, so much for fireworks. But at 10:30 I heard the fireworks going off. Sigh.



Since the big gay rulings by the Supremes about 10 days ago I haven't written much about the Fundie response. It's been loud. But why bother? They aren't saying anything new. And why let all that nastiness ruin our parade?

Even though I'm doing my best to ignore them, others have been playing close attention. People like Seething Mom, who wrote in part:

Thank you for pretending it is you that has had something precious taken from you when you have lost absolutely nothing but the right to be bullies.
…
Thank you for playing the victim card every time you lose a fight. Nothing turns the stomach more than watching a big fat bully blubber for sympathy when he is exposed for the mean-spirited SOB he really is.

And finally, thank you for all the crazies you endorse and embrace. Please keep giving them a megaphone and a public stage. We've got a lot of marriage bans to repeal and gay weddings to plan and we sure could use their help to reach the finish line.

Jamie McGonnigal notes how small their crowds are becoming and how desperate their fundraising emails are sounding. Alas, they will never be gone for good. They will certainly be around long enough to make us work for the other 37 states.

And no matter what the Fundies say, this is the definition of family:

Two brothers from Reseda sat in red lawn chairs at the entrance to the City Council chambers, having staked out the prime position so their aunts, Helen Andersen and Pam Holt, could have the first wedding of the day on Monday.

Holt has terminal cancer and can't be on her feet for long. They all know time is of the essence. More than a year ago, Holt’s doctor told her she had three months to live, said Tyler Mead, 21, one of the brothers.

"They've been waiting 18 years for this," Mead said. "I'd wait days in this line for them."

The two young men had to wait a while because while Holt was undergoing chemotherapy her drivers license expired and she had to visit several gov't offices to get a proper identity card. Even so, Anderson and Holt are now married.