Adam and I got married the other day. It was fun! And it was very local: Thanks to the folks at Locanda Verde, Bowne Printers, the Smyth, North End Grill, the J. Crew Ludlow Shop, and ManuelRacim for their help. (Mentioning them all makes it sound like they gave us stuff for free in exchange for publicity, when they didn’t—I just liked how neighborhood-y the weekend was).
None of that, however, would normally be enough to justify a post on this site. I’m writing about my wedding because—well, the toast we made explains it.
“There are lots of ways to get married,” Laurie Anderson wrote about her relationship with Lou Reed. “Some people marry someone they hardly know—which can work out, too. But when you marry your best friend of many years, there should be another name for it.”
We call it “the only way we can agree on an anniversary date,” since the original one, eleven years ago, remains in dispute.
Our marriage, as splendid as it’s sure to be, would not have been possible in 36 states. (And anyone who has shopped and shopped for a brideless wedding card knows that society isn’t exactly up to speed.) So when people ask you how your weekend was, please tell them that you went to a wedding with two grooms and no one burst into flames. Better yet, announce it on Facebook. You’re even allowed to break our no-phones-at-dinner rule and do it now. Talking about this, sharing it, is what makes it normal.
“The thing that surprised me about getting married,” Laurie Anderson went on to say, “was the way it altered time. And also the way it added a tenderness that was somehow completely new.”
We’d like to make a toast to embracing new and old, simultaneously.
Tribeca being pretty enlightened, I doubt there are many of you who object to marriage equality. Not objecting, however, isn’t actually enough. Despite all the progress—astounding progress!—that has been made in recent years, my people and I need you to actively, and loudly, support us. (Donating to the cause is nice, too.)