Thank goodness.  The Supreme Court said we queer folks can have sex in the privacy of our own homes.  A hard fought win, no doubt about that.  Five of those good Justices (do we count little old Sandra?  She was a bit on the fence…) thought it fit that one man ought to be able to play a bit of catcher and pitcher with his buddy if he wants. Yay!  On the day of the decision, I exchanged celebratory e-mails with all my friends and explained what sodomy is to my mother.  All the progressives in my office grinned at each other, relieved at such an unbelievable victory.  While I was talking to my co-workers, I was getting excited.  Now maybe GLBT people could adopt kids! Get married?  Get divorced?  Hell, they’ve always allowed us to do that.  But seriously, wasn’t just about every major ruling involving GLBT people not receiving equal rights and responsibilities as the breeders based on the fact that there were these archaic sodomy laws still on many states’ books?  As I pondered what great legal victories lay ahead, my co-worker Malcolm, who had overheard my joy, yelled down the hall “Jesus.  What’s the fun in being gay now?  Now that I can have sex legally, what’s the point?”  I rolled my eyes at the time and wrote him off as an old queen who didn’t want us kids to have it any better that he had.  But later, I couldn’t help but wonder, is being different part of the excitement of being gay?

Now, I’m sure that sounds really obnoxious.  It sounded outrageous in my head.  But seriously, think about it.  Do you ever enjoy the shock of explaining our diverse sex acts to those unfamiliar?  (Yes.) Have you ever spoken up about last night’s conquest on a quiet subway car, just to shock the tourists sitting across the aisle?  (This morning.)  Maybe there is some small part of us that gets off on getting off in non-missionary ways. 

This kind of thinking at first goes against everything I thought I ever felt about being a lesbian.  Over the years I’ve whined countless times that I want to be treated like everyone else! Get married, have kids (somehow), save on my taxes and everything else those straight people get should be mine as well.  So, if I want to be so “same”, why am I entertaining thoughts like these?  The more I think about that remark from Malcolm, the more I think about examples that back up his argument.

We GLBT people love to be different.  Think I’m wrong? Three words: Gay Pride Parade.  Now, if we wanted to be thought of just like everyone else (boring, dull and ignorant as they can sometimes be), I’m thinking we wouldn’t rush out to jump on floats in thongs, showcase our men and women dressed as the opposite sex, etc.  Now, I love this part of our culture.  Show it sister!  But at the same time, we’re showcasing our own culture, not assimilating into another.

You can feel it when you walk through the gay part of town.  Whether it is one bookstore or miles of an entire city, most people would say they could feel and see something different when they enter into a mostly gay space.  Coincidence? I think not. I think we want folks to feel different when they enter a GLBT-friendly place.  Signs are posted, books and pictures are displayed, all so we all know that the queers are welcome.  Again, this is a good thing.  But, it also divides us from the straights.  We set the border and we maintain its boundaries.

Maybe Malcolm is sad because a part of his own personal pride parade came from being able to show off his sexuality as subversive and now the highest court in the land has basically handed over the condoms and the lube.  Now we are all left, scratching our heads and wondering, has gay sex gone straight?  I’d argue not yet.  Sure, now we won’t get arrested if a police officer busts in on two girls getting hot and heavy but we are a long way from it being completely “accepted.” Don’t worry Malcolm, there is still a lot left to get through before our community is no longer seen as different.  And so the next time the girl and I have sex, I’ll know I’m doing it with the strange approval of the Supreme Court, but also with the knowledge that I might be waiting a while for the rest of my rights to be handed down on that silver platter.