Good-bye

The Emancipation of Mikell... from Blogger anyway!

Please see me at my new home. The furniture isn't all in place, I've no pictures up on the wall... but I'm going to call it home for a while.

**UPDATED** November 2007

This Town Needs an Enema!!

I gotta get out of here. But first, let me deal with how I left yesterday's post.
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I'm fine. It was only a joke to mention that I was hoping it was food poisoning. Meaning, that when one takes toxic medications -as I do- and has to throw up first thing in the morning (or any other time of day now that I think of it!!) one HOPES that it isn't a bad reaction to the drugs that one is taking to stay alive.

After all, I've mentioned before how many different drugs that I've been on - many of which are no longer even used. Yes, they were that bad. I've also mentioned how one of the drugs has twice (!!) put me in the hospital. Oh... and then there were the shots. Ugh.

But, since I've been on this current regimen, I've been pretty okay. My scores are getting better each time, and I should be seeing the doctor again soon. I'll admit, I've been putting it off, but only because it is so hard to make it to that side of town (where the VA clinic is) and not miss very much work.

It is either a failing in me or an asset: I don't like to miss work. Ever. So the spell of vomiting passed, just as quickly as it showed up. I'm fine, haven't tossed my cookies since. Nor felt like it. I appreciate you all asking, though.
--
I'm moving soon. The colors just aren't doing it for me. The decoration? The pits.

No sleep...

Well, some, just not enough.

TheHusband and I met some friends for dinner last night. A great time was had by all, and I'll leave you all to figure that out on your own. You are probably getting tired of hearing about the Orlando Bloggers and their food functions by now.

TheHusband went to bed earlier than me, unusual I should point out. Typically this means he had too much to drink the day before (which, btw, he did not) or he isn't feeling well, and doesn't know it yet. So as I went in there, I noticed he was already asleep, with the Bitch Cat next to him, as she normally is. The bed and the bedroom are hers, don't you know.

After I got in, something unusual happend. TheHusband's favorite cat came in the room, got on the bed -on my side- and started purring and making a little pocket nest next to me. I should also point out that this cat's favorite Daddy is not me...

So not only did I have to sleep lightly so that I wouldn't roll over and crush him (he stayed there all night), I couldn't turn over and fall into a deep sleep, because if I did, the Bitch Cat would probably wake up in the middle of the night, realize he was there and ATTACK!!! How's that for an arousal? You laugh, but it has been known to happen.

TheHusband woke up at 0200 and was awake until 0400. I finally got out of bed at 0500, and in the midst of making coffee, realized that I needed to throw up. I barely made it back to the sink before the vile concocction of last nights pills errupted from the pit of my stomach. Then, the sweating, stuffy nose, and shaking started.

How sad am I that I'm hoping it was food poisoning?

Danger!! Danger!!!

If you receive an email entitled "Bedtimes" delete it IMMEDIATELY. Do not open it. Apparently this one is pretty nasty. It will not only erase everything on your hard drive, but it will also delete anything on disks within 20 feet of your computer. It demagnetizes the stripes on ALL of your credit cards. It reprograms your ATM access code, screws up the tracking on your VCR, and uses subspace field harmonics to scratch any CD's you attempt to play. It will program your phone auto dial to call only 0898 numbers. This virus will mix antifreeze into your fish tank.

IT WILL CAUSE YOUR TOILET TO FLUSH WHILE YOU ARE SHOWERING. It will drink ALL your beer. FOR GOD'S SAKE, ARE YOU LISTENING?? It will leave dirty underwear on the coffee table when you are expecting company. It will replace your shampoo with Nair and your Nair with Rogaine. If the "Bedtimes" message opened in a Windows 95/98 environment, it will leave the toilet seat up and leave your hair dryer plugged in dangerously close to a full bathtub. It will not only remove the forbidden tags from your mattresses and pillows, it will also refill your skim milk with whole milk.

*** WARN AS MANY PEOPLE AS YOU CAN. ***

And if you don't send this to 5000 people in 20 seconds, you'll fart so hard that your right leg will spasm and shoot straight out in front of you, sending sparks that will ignite the person nearest you.

Send this warning to everyone!!! THERE'S A LOT OF SADNESS IN THE WORLD! Right now, as you read this, 17 Million people are having SEX!!! And look at you - you're on the computer!!!!




(P.S. I'd like to take credit for this, but I can't. It was in an email from my eldest brother. Except the picture, I found that somewhere else.)

I forgot to mention...

... in this morning's post:

On the walk back to Spider's cottage, as we passed the restaurant we'd eaten at a few hours ago, I noticed one of our local celebrities... Lauren Rowe. Lauren sat at my table a few months ago at the poker tourney.

She had that same look on her face: "I know you." Of course, this time she was right, but she couldn't place me, I could tell. I stopped, said "Hey!!", and asked if I could see the baby (since she was sitting right there, in a stroller). Cute - as if I'd be surprised. Lauren is a damned hottie, as is her husband. All kinds of the typical baby fat that one is supposed to have at five months old. The baby was not enjoying the heat, was my impression, but she was giggling and/or smiling. Or she could have been passing gas... it is so hard to tell at that age. I'm sure Lauren's hottie husband was inside ordering they're food. It was tempting to go in and look.

I wish I'd asked about her co-anchor Jacquie. I wanted to know when Jacquie was going to announce that she was pregnant again. I giggle every morning when she tugs at her clothes to hide the impending baby-weight she's been putting on. And that one day she worked the morning news from 0500 to 0630 and then suddenly disappeared, and the "traffic" reporter had to finish the last half-hour of news.

I just want conformation that it was morning sickness that made her leave that day.

Weekend Warriors

Saturday, TheHusband started clearing out the garage, to make room for the freezer we bought a few weeks ago. Now I figure you might be wondering if I helped him, aren't you? Well, in a word, no. It wasn't my shit. He took two loads to a storage unit, and one to the landfill. I would have taken it all to the landfill.

Besides, knowing that we had plans for brunch on Sunday, I had to get some of my Sunday Chores (TM) done. So I started on laundry. Until I got bored with it and stopped. Funny how the interest I have in doing laundry lasts about as long as it takes to get MY laundry clean... as once I start on TheHusband's, I pick up a book, put in a DVD, or just flip through the 74 channels on this cable system. Note to self: get a cable box for more options.

Sunday, TheHusband and I met Spider and Sorted for brunch. We sat outside this week, but so did some young couple with four, count 'em, FOUR, stair step little girls. Obviously, they've been using the Rhythm Method of birth control.

After a walk around Lake Eola, and more conversation, TheHusband and I headed back to the house. He went back out to the garage (I have no idea what he was doing) and I took a nap.

About two hours later, I began dinner. I made some Cuban Black Bean Soup (Mikell's version), Beef BBQ Ribs, and corn-on-the-cob. It was the first time I'd made the soup, and the reason it was "my" version is because TheHusband has pilfered some of the ingredients over the last week, so I had to make substitutions. It was still quite yummy.

How's this for extremes? Yesterday we hit record highs in the 90's. Tomorrow, we'll hit record lows in the 40's.

30,000

Thank you. Thank you all.

Because it is funny as...

... all get out.

Thanks, Michael.

An explanation...

... about yesterday.

A week ago, I would have had no second thoughts about putting up yesterday's post. But I almost didn't. Not because it didn't happen (from my point of view), because it did... but because now people know who it is I am referring to in the post, and I don't want them to get the wrong idea about him. Let me try to explain with a bit of a story.

This weekend, as has been blogged about completely about, I made a few statements BEFORE anything was said.

Example 1: When I broached TheHusband about meeting Spider, Sorted, et al for dinner Saturday night, I told him that he might hear about things I said here, and if he had any questions, to ask. This wasn't necessary (it turns out), but I also prepared him by showing him my first post.

Yes. It was a preemptive strike. I know. I was weak. I really wanted to go out to dinner with these people. I wanted to see if I (we) could make some new friends and have some new experiences, so that we could get past this homebody rut we've gotten into. And I wanted him to understand that I don't post negative/bitchy things about him, and he wasn't walking into an ambush of people who would hate him. Especially since I'd asked him NOT to read my blog.

Example 2: When I introduced TheHusband to all of the other bloggers, I quickly said to them "He doesn't read my blog, and he's never seen yours, either (as far as I know)."

In other words, don't talk about the time I mentioned that he was stretching his foreskin, or I posted pictures of his face after having some cancerous skin cells removed, or... you get the point.

Someone asked me why I had asked TheHusband NOT to read my blog. I told him the same thing I told TheHusband that one time he had, "If I know he's reading it, I might not be as honest when posting something." If I have to pick my words carefully, then what is the point?

Which brings me to last night's post.

I almost didn't write it. When I decided to, I chose my words carefully. I left out parts of the conversation. I finally hit "publish", and then changed it to "edit". Then I made a few changes, removed the option to comment, and hit "publish" again.

All because people who read this blog know who I am talking about.

Quote of the Day

"It’s a funny thing about being a perfectionist: on the plus side you tend to work harder. But on the downside all that self-criticism can prove very self-destructive. In striving for what is humanly impossible, you run the risk of losing yourself. Now all I have to do is convince myself of that."

Boy, can I relate to this.

Foul moods

Someone came home in a mood tonight.

Obviously, he had a bad day at work today, and I can understand that. I had one yesterday.

But here is the difference. I didn't go off in a totally unconnected and different direction, and blame it on him.
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This is not why we begged off dinner plans for tonight. Mostly. He was in a bad mood, and that much is why... everything else happened later.
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So, because he was in a bad mood, he worked on "the books". Something TheHusband does when he is in a bad mood. He laments the lack of cash flow. And, although he does NOT say so, he makes it obvious that it is because I make quite a bit less than he does.

It isn't that I make a horrible wage. I do okay. If I lived by myself, I'd be able to pay my bills. I do this new-fangled thing called- keeping spending down.

You see, TheHusband hasn't learned this lesson, because he is a dreamer.

He can't stand the fact that he works for someone else. It bothers him. To him, the only success in life is to work for yourself. Period. And I have proof of this, of course. Pipe dream after pipe dream we've pursued. All because he felt that the NEXT plan would be the winner. If I were to ball park a figure, I'd say $50,000 has been borrowed/paid to follow these dreams over the last 13 years.

I don't understand this type of thinking. I wasn't raised this way. Of course, I know his father, and with this knowledge, I know that TheHusband wasn't raised this way either.
*----
I'm just venting here. I have this conversation with myself every few months or so, when he gets into this mood.

Conundrum...

When TheHusband and I lived in D.C. I had recently been diagnosed with HIV. (oh, crap, that rhymed.)

It wasn't a big deal. I mean, it was, but it wasn't. People didn't care. They cared, of course, but you were just another person they knew, that was HIV positive. I am not ashamed of it. It was a stupid decision (not to use a condom) on my part, and I accept that.

But, after moving to Orlando, I noticed a difference in attitudes. People would whisper "See him? He's got the AIDS..." And yes, this was in a gay bar.

I learned to keep my mouth shut. People didn't want to know. And if they did, they'd surely talk behind your back. And make shit up.

When I started this 'blog, it was because the illness was seriously attacking my body. I needed some way to vent. It has, of course, become something more than that.

I made friends. Both virtual and now, real. At least I hope so. And there are too many things that can happen to keep me from at least taking the next step.

After spending the weekend with some extremely nice people, who I hope will be friends, I noticed something. I was letting them take my picture, but they knew that I don't post my face-pic without it being very far off in the distance, or covered by a plant or something. So these new friends didn't post them. I didn't ask them not to, they just assumed it was what I wanted.

How nice is that?

And so... I release you all. Post away.



And if you are mean to me, I'll delete this post and call you out for the evil bitches that you are.

Tread lightly, Sorted.

Orlando Gay Pride 2006

Just some observations, m'kay?

Bitches kept me out, way too long. This one, this one, these two, and this one.

Typically on Sundays, I clean the house, do the laundry, and shop for groceries. None of which got done today.

But no. After dinner last night, I was begged of, cajoled, nay, it was demanded that TheHusband and I join them all for brunch this morning. Yes, we were weak. We capitulated. After we got home last night (late for this old homo) he started hammering and nailing, and sawing again, to try to finish the changes he was making in the kitchen, and I gave up waiting for him to finish at 00:30, and went to bed. At 01:30, I yelled out that it was time to stop all the noise (which he did), and he finally came to bed at 0300. I was sure I wouldn't be able to get him up in the morning in time for brunch. I dreaded making the call to beg off.

But, after I'd been away this morning (at 0700) for an hour, TheHusband was making noises. I was shocked, SHOCKED, I tell you.

So we arrived at Spider's house on time and walked downtown for brunch, which was nice. I wish we'd been able to sit outside, as the weather was so nice. Then we were going to walk down to Lake Eola to the little market, but someone had left his wallet home. Back to Spider's house, so he could drive home and get it. Once he returned, we all walked back downtown and looked at the trinkets. After that, we all wandered down to the "Pride" area, for more vendors.

I must say, it was my first time going back to Orlando Pride. I stopped a few years ago, because all of the money was going to the straight businesses downtown.

At this point, some people wanted to eat. Again. We decided to sit on the patio at The Globe, a place TheHusband and I have been to once or twice. When it was busier. And had better service. Am I making my point?

The conversation was nice though. Oh. I got carded. Unlike certain other people in the group. Take that, bitches.

Of course, certain individuals decided to play footsie:

And deep-throat TheHusband's fingers:

Okay, it was chicken fingers.

And, oh yes, Bitch. I published it.

Off to the parade, we were. Starting with my love, Moira, random pictures:


Oh, yes. We had media coverage:



And hot boys:

Fine, maybe just one.

Lesbian Humor:

In case that isn't obvious, that's a U-Hall truck. Funny stuff!!

Oh. The "Star" of the show:

You see, in Orlando, we CAN afford a Has-Been. Even a bottom-of-the-list-has-been.

People were breaking their necks to read my t-shirt (which is o-l-d, I might add, but there were plenty to read that were quite cute, including this one:

which, in case you can't see it, I got a close up. I'm good that way:

Oh. And then there was these two. My friend "D" and his new boyfriend.

One of them was wearing jeans that looked like this, from the back:

At least, until this guy:

and this guy:

... said something to him. For the record, I would have done anything they told me to... anything. Also, I don't have a nice enough ass to have worn those jeans, anyway.

That's it. Shortly after that, the political talks started where I learned that everyone there must absolutely join the Democrat party, and vote Democrat, and hate George Bush, Dick Chaney, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera... blah blah blah.

At that point, we all walked back to Spider's little bungalow. TheHusband and I begged off going to dinner, and came home.

We had the best time.

Because they didn't believe me...

...tonight at dinner - I present:

The Evidence.



TheHusband loves, Loves, LOVES flat surfaces. All the better to put something on.

-- And yes, he's back in there, using the Dremel tool.

Changes...

I called my grandmother yesterday. I had to. You see, she lives in Detroit and it was snowing. And cold. I felt it was best for the news to come from a family member. Someone she knows and trusts.

Someone had to tell her that it was 88 degrees down here in Florida.

Of course it does snow here in Florida sometimes. Here is an example, taken in my back yard.

Oh, yes. It was all over the place. I may never get it all shoveled.

One of my cats was fascinated by it.

And yes, I cautioned her not to eat the yellow snow.
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TheHusband traded out the dishwasher. Today he has installed it (insert grunting noises, yelling, and screaming here). Actually, it wasn't as bad as the other day, and now the washer seems to be working just fine. We are running a "test" load, just in case he forgot to attach a water hose or something. I figure if the kitchen doesn't sprout any river rapids, I'll load it for the first time. So far, everything is pretty quiet. I keep touching it to ensure it is running. THAT's quiet.

Now, if I can get him to stop looking at it so he can go down and get a haircut.

Dinner tonight is going to be a treat. I'm meeting bloggers. Oh, yes. I got an invitation to meet Spider, Sorted, Six, and others. And I'm bringing TheHusband.

I haven't said anything here that they can't repeat to TheHusband, have I?

National Coming Out Day

Someone, please let Tom Bowman know that.

Lovely...

As I said earlier, if you are in government or the armed forces and in the closet, you are a security risk. Even if you are a janitor - you could be blackmailed into giving access to someone's access on pain of outing.

If these guys want to be in the closet, they should find jobs where their closet can't impact national security or compromise their employer.

Personally, I would never hire a closeted gay person in my company.

--
No comment.

Dog Day Afternoon...

If I get my cats to watch this, maybe they will let me get another dog.

Enjoy.


Unabashedly stolen from Nathan. If you are not reading his blog, you should be.

He kills me...

I just walked into the Laundry Room to find TheHusband putting up shelves.

The aren't new shelves, recycled I think is the word. The issue I have with them, was that they were WAY over my head (I am not a tall man), and therefore, they would pretty useless to me, since he doesn't even know how to do laundry.

I said: "What the hell are you doing now?"

He said, "They are not The Hell your Whales."

Oh. Sure. Disarm me by quoting Star Trek. It just isn't right.

I laughed for ten minutes.

Wash, rinse, drain...

A few weeks ago, I pointed out to TheHusband that we needed a new dishwasher, soon.

After all, I was tired of cleaning all the dirty dishes in the kitchen, only to walk out of the kitchen, walk back in 30 minutes later to find more dirty dishes. I was also tired of seeing a sink-full of dirty dishes, and watching him make something to eat and then ONLY washing the dishes he had just used.

And the dishwasher that came with this house still didn't work.

So yesterday, TheHusband was out running errands and stopped at the World's A-largest Appliance Showroom, close to our neighborhood. He called me and said the prices were pretty good. It's a "scratch and dent" type of store, but that doesn't mean the stuff is non-working, or bad. I told him to come and get me.

We spend 2-1/2 hours there, as I drooled over the front loading washer and dryer sets. TheHusband wanted a freezer for the garage, but I insisted that we get one ONLY if we got a dishwasher. So we picked out one that matched the stove (uhm... duh!) and TheHusband picked out a freezer. I told him to pick a different one, because it was an upright, and everything inside it would be easier to find. Also, it was twice the size, and only a few dollars more.

We brought the dishwasher home, and said we'd pick up the freezer next week, as both wouldn't fit in his little truck.

And then the yelling started. And the cursing. And the banging. And the sawing. TheHusband can be quite loud when things are not going exactly his way.

Finally, it was in, and hooked up. The power was switched back on, and... and... and... it didn't work. Lights would flash that were not supposed to flash. Buttons you could push would not react.

-insert more screaming and yelling here-

I went to the Internets. I got the installation guide and the operation manual (both of which were mysteriously missing from our purchase). Neither of which were any help. So TheHusband called the store to ask what would happen.

He got a sales manager, who said they would pretty much do nothing. TheHusband is pretty much livid.

I reminded him that the salesman had said we have three days (which I think is the Florida Lemon Law), that they can't sell us something that doesn't work (at least without telling us that it was "as-is"), and that we had used a credit card to pay for the items. He immediately asked if we should do a "charge-back" on the credit card. I said no. We need to give the company a chance to fix it first. Visa would require that.

I used to deal with charge backs all the time, at one of my former jobs. Credit Card issuers tend to be fair, depending on their own discovery of a transaction. You have to give the store/company a chance to "make things right". If we don't, the Credit Card company will side with the store.

Unfortunately, it was late in the day, and the store is not open on Sundays. That gives us until Wednesday to complain and seek a solution.

Besides, who has to wash the dirty dishes, anyway?

And...... I'm done.

Something is stinking up this whole story, and it wasn't reported on ABC.

The "child" turns out to be... not so much.

Though you will not find a link here, the "child's" name is out there, on the interwebs. He is currently 21. He and I have the same birth date.

If the reported IM messages (not the reported emails, since they turned out to be nothing) are three years old, that would make him 18 at the time. According to reports, it was a prank that he and another ex-paige were playing, trying to get the ex-congressman to, uhm, say too much. For laughs. Also, according to the reports, he never meant to have the three year old transcripts to "get out".

The Ex-Congressman? Formally molested (don't care), drinking problem (!?! don't care), and now, gay. Still don't care.

The former Paige? Left college to work as a politico's staff in another state, probably not getting a whole lot of work done at the moment.

One of them has reportedly hired the lawyer most famous for defending this guy, unsuccessfully.

Any guesses as to which one?

Dreams and nightmares, Sustiva style

"The doctor can see you now, but he only has a few minutes."

Uhm, okay. Let me stop what I am doing here (I have no idea where I was or what I was doing).

In the hallway, with a waist-high wall between us, I show him my left forearm. He examines it closely, and says I need surgery to remove it. I have no idea what "it" is. I agree to the surgery, and realize that he is standing there in scrubs, a mask, the apron-thingy, and that little hat they wear. He calls for a scalpel.

I interject, "uhm, you are going to do this RIGHT HERE?" He says, yes, that it is the only time he has, and "it" HAS to come out.

No anesthesia, and still standing, he cuts an eight inch line into my arm. I calmly watch the other direction, wondering why all those other people are at the hospital. He finishes removing "it" and closes, with help from his nurse.

Shortly after that, I am discussing my deductible payments with my insurance rep. He looks at the bill and wonders why this particular surgeon did the procedure. He is an OB-GYN, after all. Then, the rep ponders the question as to why the doctor did the surgery in the hallway of the OB-GYN clinic.
--------
At this point, I woke up. It was 0520. I doubt it means anything, but as soon as I got to the kitchen (where there was some light), I checked my arm for stitches.

Judging from my last two posts...

... I was right.

We are not allowed to post anything political here at How Does One Deal, since we tend to think while leaning to the right.

After all, Right is Wrong in the Gay-Blogisphere. Post a fake picture of some cutie from Hollywood? Comments. Fake picture of the residents of Sesame Street having gay sex? Comments.

What a crock. I think I'd rather eat an Oreo Cookie.

I would be remiss...

If I said nothing. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is having a cumfest over on his blog, as if he had anything to do with reporting the allegations, except for after the fact.

Of course, assuming all reported items are true, he's a dick. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Personally, I think he gave up without a fight, and too soon. So far, according to what has been reported, he -actually- did nothing legally wrong.

But, I have to ask the question. Would this have been such a big deal if he were a Democrat and admitted to what he did wrong? Or, for that matter, denied it, even thought he was lying?

I don't think so.

Let me remind you that, when you are watching NBC's "Dateline - To Catch a Predator" show, they ask the "perpetrator" to bring something. Jello, Beer, Vodka, whatever. It proves the intent to molest.

This did NOT occur in the case of Mark Foley. And, in fact, he never touched the 16 year old.

I read a response to a post over at Towelroad that stuck a chord:

My, my, my, but this is a complicated one. Not just a "bomb," but one that is going to have a great deal of collateral damage beyond its target. While happy to see Republican numbers reduced in any case, the circumstances here may not be worth the cost. First, trying to get ABC and Americans generally to understand the difference between a CHILD stalker/pedophile and a hebephiliac or ephebophiliac [attracted to those between 13 & 18] is impossible. Or that the pages were apparently past the age of consent, even if they had no interest in doing consenting to anything with Foley. Regardless, is Foley, in fact, an ephebophiliac or just a chicken queen or are they one and the same? Is this a case of "sick" or just "ick"? Is he guilty of anything besides hypocrisy and self-destructively bad judgement, even if they were interested in him. The latter would be irrelevant to Americans as straight men can pursue much younger women but gay men are dangerous perverts if interested in much younger men. See Christopher Isherwood...

Further, except in terms of House majority rule, which IS very important, have we thrown out a moderate Republican vis-a-vis gay rights for a Democrate of unknown beliefs. I had paid no attention to this race until now, but was shocked to discover that Foley's opponent was a Republican himself until convinced by Rahm Emmanuel to switch parties to run against Foley. I can find little about his position on gay issues except for publically criticizing Bush for trying "to divide the nation" over gay marriage AND that Mahoney clearly has been gay baiting Foley. Make no mistake: this scandal will hurt gays more than the GOP by reinforcing the idea that we are all child molestors just waiting to pounce. And Mahoney, whether or not he was involved in the exposure of the e-mails, is doing US no good by feeding on the corpse of Foley's career in the name of protecting children.

From Daily Kos:
Mon Sep 04, 2006 at 08:28:13 PM PDT
What, pray tell, is Rep. Mark Foley's (R-FL) "dirty little secret"? To hear his Democratic challenger Tim Mahoney tell it, it's the fact that Foley is a Republican who campaigns to the left of his caucus to confuse people into thinking he's a Democrat. But that's not what Mahoney's language, specifically using the phrase "dirty little secret," is meant to evoke. Indeed, Mahoney is using coded language that's only barely code for anyone who's been living in South Florida for the last 12 years of Foley's tenure. Foley is gay, despite having never acknowledged as much publicly, and Mahoney's despicable gay-baiting ought to be denounced up and down this community, if not by the Democratic caucus itself.
Beyondo98's diary :: ::

It would be one thing if Foley were hypocritical on this issue, but his 'yes' vote on the DOMA notwithstanding (people, please remember Clinton signed that trash into law), he's the most pro-gay member of the GOP caucus, maintains a strict non-discrimination policy, voted against the gay marriage ban, and has been a sensible voice in the GOP caucus on the issue of fighting AIDS. His contribution to the GOP majority is abhorrent, but he does NOT deserve to be the target of coded hate speech.

I'm not writing this with Sista Soulja-esque intentions. I'm writing this because Foley is a decent man despite his party affiliation; because his sexuality should not make any difference; and because campaign tactics like this demean Democrats and threaten progressivism nationally. What difference is there between 'Macaca' Allen and gay-baiting Mahoney when each is playing on the xenophobic fears on the Republican electorate to either increase or depress GOP turnout? This is the same thing a primary opponent of Foley's tried to pull back in 1994--proof enough that Mahoney's tactic is reprehensible--to his own detriment even among GOP voters."

Posted by: Leland | Sep 29, 2006 7:21:07 PM

(All misspellings and gramatical errors belong to the author, not me.)