As we slip closer to becoming the dystopian world we used to chuckle over while reading the fantastical novels of our youth, I now wonder about ever leaving the house. Even then paranoia creeps in while watching/listening/reading the news. It’s melting ice caps and fire storms. It’s waring tweets from men plenty old enough to know not to taunt but daily they do. There’s corruption in Facebook, phone apps listening, and Amazon with one-day deliveries causing insurmountable mountains of cardboard. Gun violence passing epidemic proportions that not even George Orwell would have imagined. Rational stuff gone daft too, like the inability to debate issues in Congress or use Science as a base for fact. Everyone is distrustful of any branch of government. People are retreating, especially the L.G.B.T., unsure if our marriages or jobs or civil rights will stand this latest round of Supreme Court discussions.
Wedding Invites… Have at least one or two lying on your desk or stuck on your fridge? June through Labor Day weekends are awash with scanning gift registries, making travel plans, coordinating hotel stays, all for the sole purpose of being present for the lucky couple’s vows: Because that’s the whole point, right? To stand together, in churches or synagogues, on hilltops or beaches, to join in the public acknowledgement of the marriage, and inherent in that standing together, to support and celebrate this fragile union.
This is a story of love, yes, a love story, and one I believe deserves telling.