second-hand rose
Howard
Fox and Douglas Messerli were married at the Beverly Hills Courthouse on
November 22, 2013.
Father
has a business strictly second hand
Everything
from toothpicks to a baby-grand
Stuff
in our apartment came from father’s store
Even
things I’m wearing someone wore before
It’s
no wonder that I feel abused
I
never get a thing that ain’t been used
I’m wearing second hand hats
Second
hand clothes
That's
why they call me
Second
hand rose
Even our piano in the parlor
Father
bought for ten cents on the dollar
Second
hand pearls
I’m
sick of second hand curls
I
never get a single think that's new
Even
Jake, the plumber, he's a man I adore
Had
the nerve to tell me he's been married before!
Everyone knows that I’m just
Second
hand rose
From
second avenue!
From
second avenue! nu!
Lyrics by Grant
Clarke
After
just a couple of months short of 44 years of being together, Howard Fox and I
were married at the Beverly Hills Courthouse this past Friday—thanks to the
Supreme Court ruling to dismiss the challenge to a California court ruling and
the higher court’s abolition of DOMA, the Defense of Marriage Act. Since we
had missed out on the brief period some years ago when we night have married in
California, I had argued that if the Supreme Court decision did again allow it in
our state, we should finally marry—if for no other reason than declare publicly our love, even though we had privately made that clear for so many
decades. The overturning of DOMA, moreover, now meant that married couples might
receive each others' social security and other benefits after death. While we
were able for the past two years to file joint Federal Income Tax as California
Domestic Partners, we now could do so only if were to be married. So our desire
to announce our long-time love also nicely dove-tailed with further protections
and benefits that had previously been denied us.
We had been proud of our relationship,
however, for all these years, pleased that we had stuck out are sometimes
difficult times, despite the fact that we could not
legally reiterate it. Indeed, it had almost become a badge of honor that we had
remained so close despite the fact
that we could not legally marry. That we had achieved a social marriage that
many of our heterosexual friends had not been able to maintain created, in some
respects, an even deeper bond between us, a bond that didn’t need the social
institutions of church and state, or even the support of friends—although most
of our friends had, in fact, supported us, and we had experienced very little
if any prejudice or disparagement (at least to our faces). Yes, my and mother and father,
when we first told them back in 1970 that we were gay and in a permanent
relationship, had stood up at the dinner table in Washington, D.C., collected
their luggage and drove immediately back to Iowa in disdain. Yet, even then,
they had eventually come round, accepting Howard as someone they loved because
I loved him. More recently, my mother had expressed her reservations again by
suggesting that I need not tell any of her friends in her assisted living home
that I was planning to marry another man—to which I laughed, assuring her that
I had no intentions of telling her friends anything,
while reiterating to her that I was entirely proud of the upcoming event. But these
were perhaps the only negative reactions we have ever witnessed. In the Capitol
city we were invited and attended a dinner at Vice President’s Mondale’s home
and a party at Jimmy Carter’s White House. When we moved from Washington to Los
Angeles, the Washington Post announced
that Howard would be leaving the Hirshhorn Museum with his companion, me—which
I believe was the first time that august paper had referred to a gay
relationship in such a matter-of-fact manner. In short, we had long perceived
ourselves in a situation such as what the New York Times today
described :
Marriage as an
institution lost much of its power over our lives,
but marriage as a
relationship became more powerful than ever.
(Stephanie Coontz)
Yet, for years we had naively made no
plans for what might happen after one of our deaths. We had several joint bank
accounts, and many things, such as the car, were in both our names, so we felt
protected. When we did consult a lawyer to discuss our wills we were startled
to be told just how vulnerable we had been. Without a will and several other
documents we might not have visiting rights if one of us were to be
hospitalized; certainly we would have no power to make decisions for the other
concerning health care and artificial extension of life. If one of us had died,
money and possessions could be claimed by each others' family members, leaving
the survivor without anything. Dutifully we corrected those issues, writing a
will, establishing decision-making rights for hospital care, etc. We also were
among the first to sign with the State of California as domestic partners. So, except for
spousal benefits, we were, after all, not in a situation very different
from legally married heterosexuals.
Or were we? As more and more states--and the
gay, lesbian, and the transgender citizens within them-- began to change their
marriage laws, I felt, surely much like Mary Chaney must feel about her Republican
sister, Liz, who, in running for the Senate in Wyoming, opposes same-sex
marriage: how can someone whom supposedly loves you stand against your equal
rights (Mary wrote: “You’re just wrong, and on the wrong side of history.”) If
marriage is the important institution that many claim it to be—reiterating the
couple’s love, solidifying their goals, and allowing them to raise a family—why
should we, same-sex American citizens, not have the opportunity to share that
rite?
If Christ proclaimed that the greatest commandment is love, why did others, speaking
in his name, keep people like Howard and me from expressing that commitment? Granted
that Jesus was not speaking necessarily of “eros”
(sexual love) but “agape” or “philia”; yet throughout the Old
Testament love is used much more widely to mean both love between the sexes and
love of God or of God’s love for his people. And how can you truly separate these
forms of love, when words expressing love are used throughout both Testaments
as metaphors for one another?
To express it more colloquially, why are
people like us often treated as “second-hand” beings, permanent outsiders to
one of the most basic joys of life? We were, so I suddenly contemplated, a kind of "second-hand Rose."
Increasingly, I discovered, I was growing
angry with people, who I now perceived as outright bigots, for their opposition
to something which so many other countries (even countries where Catholicism
still matters very much, such as Spain and France) had accepted and even blessed. Why were Americans continuing their love of guns and hating married homosexuals? I
believe that, inevitably the whole US will have to come to the conclusion—as
they have had to concerning so many other issues—that equality is the only
choice. But why are those others so intent on delaying or ending that choice?
Another of my former editors, Perla Karney and
her husband Ami, sent us a beautiful succulent arrangement on the day of the
wedding. At the courthouse we met up with Diana and John, and then entered,
after several other weddings, the room devoted to marriages, where a wonderful Black woman
judge earnestly and quote meaningfully married us, imploring us to put one
another before ourselves while not giving up ourselves and our differences. Our mention that we had already shared nearly 44 years together, greatly impressed her. We
then joined our witnesses at a wonderful lunch at a nearby French restaurant,
Buchon.
That afternoon we sent out Facebook and
e-mail notifications:
JUST MARRIED—AFTER 44 YEARS
DOUGLAS MESSERLI AND HOWARD FOX
at the Beverly Hills Courthouse, November
22, 2013
Over the next few days we received over
500 responses from friends with mazel tovs
and congratulations. Some teased us about waiting so long. Others were
surprised that we planned no honeymoon. A few asked us if we now felt—after all
these years—any different. Surprisingly, we both did feel somewhat
changed. We felt the joy, if nothing else, of finally being able to express our
solidarity with our friends, family, and the generations who had been able to
choose to momentarily express their specialness as a couple, to demonstrate, if
only for a day or two, that they were part of the entire community of individuals
instead of being perceived as slightly inferior beings living a “second-hand” life.
Los Angeles,
November 26, 2013