Gays who march

We’re packing up the M-V and heading to Washington DC this weekend where we’re going to march for marriage equality on Sunday, October 11. It began as a throw-away question. “Hey, Gabriella. Let’s go to the National Equality March on the 11th in Washington DC. Whaddya say?” She reacted in the same manner as she does when she’s driving the car and I ask her if she’s up for some road head. She ignored me. We have a great arrangement, actually. I say anything that comes to mind whether it be inappropriate or lewd and Gabriella completely ignores me. Now, THAT is the secret to good communication.

Gabriella did not ignore my suggestion to head to DC because she is complacent. She is just as disgusted with the fact that we’re still fighting for equal rights in this country as I am. If we didn’t have small children, we wouldn’t think twice about marching in Washington DC where we could be angry and protest and blow whistles really really loudly. But when you have to drive for 4 hours to get to your march or rally and you have a kid in diapers who naps for 3 hours during the day and 2 kids who go to sleep at 7pm, protesting out of state just doesn’t seem very family friendly. The cost and inconvenience of a hotel room alone is a deal breaker.

Sigh. We would be sweeping ashes into the fire and singing with animated mice instead of going to the march with all the other gays. We WOULD, that is, until our Fairy Godmother appeared and with a wave of her sparkly wand, granted us access to her swank apartment in Dupont Circle which will be vacant that weekend. BIBBIDI BOBBIDI BOO! Why, it’s more than we could have ever imagined. Oh, thank you Fairy Godmother!

After our summer of road trips, we feel comfortable with the preparation. Loads upon loads of laundry. Why are there always so many loads of laundry to do before a trip? Clothes, snacks for the car, games, DVDs. Now we have to consider march-wear. Practical shoes, buggyboard for the stroller and the last-minute t-shirt order from Family Evolutions. Every angry protestor knows that you’re never fully dressed without t-shirts, buttons and signage. We’re here! We’re queer! We just want to register! ...or something. I’m counting on the cast of HAIR to work up some catchy chants. The Broadway producers canceled the Sunday matinee so that the entire cast could march!

When we’re not marching with the cast of HAIR, we’ll be sight-seeing. Asher wants to meet Barack Obama and ask him questions about the “bad president”. He’s more than a little interested in Richard Nixon ever since he asked me if there were any bad presidents. I admit I took the easy way out with Nixon.

We have a few other things to do while we’re there. My bee-keeping neighbour told me to check out Michelle Obama’s bee-hive, and my friend who worked at The National Park Service wants me to take pictures of the Washington Monument Ha-ha walls. I know, I said the same thing. It’s a security trench surrounding the Washington Monument that replaced the existing walls named after the big, ugly concrete meridians in New Jersey, the jersey barriers. So proud to be representing Jersey. The ha-ha walls are built into the ground providing better visibility of the Monument and a much more ascetic view. People running into or over the walls inspired the name apparently. Already, this trip is proving to be so very educational.

So, if you see a mini-van with Jersey plates heading into town with 2 ladies in the front seat, 2 boys in the back and a DVD playing either Thomas the Tank Engine or Cars, show us some car horn love and meet us in the Fruit Loop for some finger pointing, whistle blowing, gay rabble-rousing! But, please try not to curse in front of the children.