Golden Age

It's so weird. It's like one day I went to bed when anything was possible and when I woke up the mystery of parties had dissipated. En route to New Year's Eve party with Bisque I realized I knew just what to expect. You know what I mean? In high school who will hook up? Who will buy the cigarettes? Who will smoke them? Even two years ago--will cops come? Coke? What to wear, what to wear.

Classy.

It's a relief. We finished our romantic dinner and showed up at Hill's. I knew every face. I changed into boxers. I felt sleepy. I took two pictures. We left at one.

First pic of 2014.

When I look at people who are older sometimes I get nervous. Like, when does That Life happen and will I know and can I avoid it? But what I've started to realize is when I was 16 I didn't get that I wouldn't always want to be 16. I don't always want to be in my 20s either. I don't know why, but I know I don't.

Neek & Hill & Dog

And so we're told this is the golden age,
and gold is the reason for the wars we wage.

Jr. Asparagus

"They make delicious food. They're a private company. They can run their business however they want."

This is what Dizz said when we passed a Chic-Fil-A and I frowned at it from inside Jamin's car last November. Chic-Fil-A's company policy: Queer? Get out of here. If employees are found to be gay, they are suddenly found unemployed. For this reason, I will never give Chic-Fil-A any money. I encourage others to do the same, and sometimes they do. But Jamin in the champion of not caring about human rights on a micro level, so it's not a surprise he tells me leeringly how delicious the chicken "nugz" are as we pass. I honestly don't think this is funny. Maybe I need more of a sense of humor. I've been told I need to get a sense of humor. I don't think I do. (That's what someone without a sense of humor would say.)

Then, Dizz reminds me of where I went to school--a Christian college with a homosexuality policy. I obviously gave that hateful place a ton of money. She had a point. But so did I. BUT I decide that we're having a nice Sunday morning, and this is a rare occasion where I am able to remind myself that sometimes arguing just isn't worth it even though I REALLY THINK I AM RIGHT AND ALSO MEANWHILE THERE'S A MEAT INDUSTRY.

Here's the truth now: I gave that hateful institution (my college) my money because it was not a hateful institution at all. It was a loving and wonderful place to go to school, but it had a giant hang-up about gay issues. And that sucks. And that's why I spent a pretty large chunk of my college career fighting the policy.

We can't expect everyone and every institution to be perfect all the time, but if we involve ourselves with imperfection, it's our job to point it out. To say, "I agree with everything except..." To get inside and wheedle out the sooty little specks. To demand better in a good thing.

Ethical eating club meeting. April. Vegan salads.

So, I guess, maybe if I were writing letters to Chic-Fil-A daily and organizing a campaign for their corporate offices to note, I would buy their waffle fries. But I'm not going to do that. So the next best thing is to pass. Avoid or confront. I think those are the options.

I remember stand! (Stand up, stand up)

For what you believe in--believe in--believe in!