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THE MARRIAGE-GO-ROUND
By Tim Siggia
May 26, 2004
At a district courthouse in Boston, a mail messenger brought the daily delivery to one of the judges in his chambers, and found His Honor in a most disgruntled mood.
"Just put it over there with the rest of the stack," the judge growled.
"Is something wrong, Your Honor?" the messenger asked.
"Wrong? Wrong?" the judge snapped. "Do you see all these papers here, young lady? Do you know what they are?"
Wordlessly, the messenger shook her head.
"I'll tell you what they are!" the judge ranted on. "They're legal challenges, that's what they are! I knew this was going to happen when they started that gay marriage business!"
"I beg your pardon, Your Honor?"
"Look, everything was okay back when marriage was just marriage," the judge explained, his head slightly cooler now. "And it's not that I have anything against gays, although I'm not one of them..."
"I never said you were, your honor."
"But I knew we started this business with the gay marriages it'd just open up a bucket of worms. And it has! Look at all these briefs! Now we're hearing from fathers who want to marry their daughters! Mothers who want to marry their sons! SONS who want to marry their FATHERS! The whole thing's gotten out of hand, I tell you!"
The judge flung his arms up and threw his head down on his desk.
"I never thought I'd hear myself saying this, but we should've listened to Rick Santorum!"
"I don't mean to sound out of line, Your Honor, but is there anything in our state constitution that prohibits any of that?"
The judge sighed, and looked up at his questioner.
"That, young lady, is what I'm supposed to research," he said, dolefully.
"I mean, if two people love one another, and are willing to make a commitment..."
"Wait a minute!" the judge snapped. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"
"I'm not on anyone's side, Your Honor," the messenger said. "It's just that the Supreme Court found nothing to prohibit gays from marrying, so..."
"This is different!" the judge interrupted again. "We're talking about perversion here!"
"But isn't homosexuality perversion?"
"No, my dear, it isn't," the judge explained patiently. "Homosexuality is not perversion, it's an alternate lifestyle. This other stuff is SICK!"
"But if homosexuality is an alternate lifestyle, couldn't these other things be considered alternate lifestyles as well?"
"Okay, then, suppose they are?" said the judge. "Where, then, do we draw the line between what's normal and what's deviant?"
"I don't know, Your Honor," the messenger said. "I'm just the mail girl. You're the judge. Aren't you supposed to decide that?"
"You see?" said the judge. "That's just the problem! The line was already clearly drawn before we messed with it. Marriage, man, woman, period. It was all spelled out. Now we're faced with -- with -- all THIS!"
The judge gestured in frustration at the mountains of paper on his desk.
"Well anyway, young lady, I'll tell you this much, and this much alone," he continued. "If I have to deal with so much as ONE MORE wierdo, whacko proposal today, I'm going to..."
At that point there was a knock on the judge's door, which was partially open. The messenger stepped back to open the door completely. At the door stood a middle-aged man, holding a leash, on the other end of which was a carefully-groomed German shepherd dog.
"Excuse me, sir," the man began. "I just wanted to know if..."
Turning purple in the face, the judge raised both his hands, balled them into fists, and slammed them down on his desk in rage.
"THAT'S IT!!" he exploded. "THAT'S THE LAST STRAW! Young lady, if anybody wants to know where I am, tell them I'm gone for the day! Tell them I've gone fishing, and you don't know where! But I am OUT OF HERE!!!"
With that, he stormed out of his chambers, the messenger, the man, and his dog all looking curiously after him.
"You must excuse His Honor," the messenger told the visitor. "He's having a bad day today."
"So I see," the man said. "Well, maybe you can help me then. All I want to know is where they issue dog licenses."
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