Tag Archives: andro

Burn It All Down

I have been out and visible since I was 18. I came out through the fire of a fanatical Christian cult (still hard to admit). I have been an out lesbian, dyke, butch, in all its glorious splendor for almost 30 years. I have fought first for gay rights, then lesbian and gay rights, then LGBT rights, and, most recently, queer rights. I have participated in civil rights rallies for Latinos and African Americans. I have protested attempts to restrict a woman’s right to choose. I have fought for change in the legal and corporate world. On the one hand, I am a liberal feminist, bordering on fanatical, adamant for equal rights for all. Since I’ve never been arrested protesting, I don’t think I get to be “radical.”

On the other hand, I am a daughter, a wife, a mother, a neighbor, a friend, and an employee. And the thought that someone might harm my mother and father, wife, kids, neighbors, friends, or coworkers makes me want to burn that person’s village to the ground. I want to climb to the top of something very high and pick off those who would harm me or mine with methodical precision. And doing so would most likely require one of these “military grade” “semi-automatic” weapons. Who am I kidding? I would want a weapon that rivals anything Dead Pool or Batman might have access to. 

That is how I feel right now. I want to find a way to identify everyone that wants to harm my many-layered community and unceremoniously remove them from existence. Punish them for their hatred by taking out anyone “they” love and then them. The anger is blinding. I want to burn it all down. 

But here is the thing. I will never burn it all down. I will never climb to the top of anything high and pick off anyone. Unless of course, social media counts as a high point and my words can be considered the weapon.

The irony, the absolutely ridiculous and beautiful irony of America is that “they” have the right to hate me. “They” have the right to try and change the laws to make my life uncomfortable. “They” have the right to shout at the top of their lungs in a public square, “I hate you, Butch. I despise you and your equality, your gayness, your lack of conformity!” Yes, “they” get to say whatever the hell “they” want. And to think whatever “they” want. And so do I.

Maybe the paradox of our free-speech, free-religion society is that the more rights we have individually, the more important it is that we not have guns. Or rather, if you will, that “they” not have guns. Fair enough. Now, if we could just figure out who “they” are.

Imagine this (tortured) example…I am standing in a public square eloquently shouting my beliefs of equality and fairness to an LGBT crowd. On the other side of the square, “they” stand shouting that a woman’s place is in the home, homosexuality is a sin, and extolling the virtues of white pride. Everyone in the square has a gun – of any type. How does this rally end?

When Mateen walked into Pulse, he used weapons of mass destruction on a micro scale. He did not use freedom of religion. He was not exercising his constitutional right to hate. He brought down a permanent and unappealable sentence on hundreds of people based on his hatred. He should not be able to do that. It should be very, very hard to do that. Or impossible even. 

Since he (and all of us) has the right to hate, we must remove the awful temptation to turn that hate into violent action. Without a gun, he’s just a homophobic asshole. With one, he is a homicidal maniac. No one should be allowed to burn it all down.

We suck at this. America needs to get better. Right now. The rest of the world already thinks we are idiots. We have such resolve, such strength. Why can’t we work together to change this landscape once and for all?

It’s Butch to fight the urge to burn it all down. Be Butch.


Butch’s Adventures with TSA: Forbidden Words

It’s time for another episode of Butch’s Adventures with TSA. In today’s tale, we learn about those forbidden words.

After smooth sailing through the millimeter wave image monster (no doubt because I sing-songed my hello to the agent staffing the magic pink and blue buttons), I collected my stuff from the belt. 

The benches were full of travelers getting dressed, so I moved over to the table where they do they bomb swipey thing. As I was grabbing the only liquid I had removed from my batchel – a tiny travel cologne flask – I noticed an agent I like.

Me: How’s my favorite TSA agent today?

Agent: Good! It’s my Friday. 

Me: (sprays cologne) Mine too!

Agent: That smells good… What is it?

Me: Spicebomb. Oh. Can I say that here?

Agent: (laughs)

Me: You should see the bottle. 

Agent: Do you carry it? (Eyes my bag)

Me: I stopped after I got pulled for search the second time.

Agent: (laughs) Have a great trip!

There you go. A nice TSA agent who has a sense of humor.

It’s Butch to be nice to the TSA even when they’ve not always been nice to you. Be Butch. 

  


Notes from 18C

Hi BOTs.

A few random thoughts for you as I sit in my seat on the plane. 

1. Couldn’t find a parking spot this morning. Being late and having to park closer to the airport isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Also, no one is leaving the airport at 6:30 am. 

2. Been called “sir” twice already. Yes, I am a big Butch wearing a bow tie, but it’s only inches above a giant chest (of boobs).

3. TSA was in full effect, making me pass through the imaging machine twice. I don’t have male parts and they can’t seem to get this.

4. The days of empty seats beside you on planes are gone. Unless you are a big Butch in a bow tie. Then, you frequently get an empty seat. Hahaha. 

5. People who need coffee are in a bit of a club. You can seriously bond over your latte. Especially when you had time to get one and 19C didn’t.

6. Carrying your wife’s license and credit card so she can forgo a bag for the day is gallant, but you should check your wallet before you leave for a few days. I’m sorry, Gorgeous.

7. Selena Gomez’s Hands to Myself is a really good song. “I mean I could, but why would I want to?”

8. I’m finding writing to be a bit of a challenge right now. I keep thinking of things to write about and then dismissing them. So, that means not much creativity making it to the page. 

Bear with me while I try to press through it?

It’s Butch to press on. Be Butch. 


Butch: My New Permanent (marker) Tattoo

Tonight, while writing our Christmas cards, my wife got bored and started drawing on my arm with a pen. What did she write? “Butch,” of course. Just like Lea Delaria.

Now, I would never claim to be as Butch as Lea. Nor would I claim to be as talented a singer as Lea. I would never claim to be as funny as Lea. And obviously, I am nowhere near as famous as Lea.

But then, I have interviewed her. I have had drinks with her. I am taller than her. And, I do drink better beer than she does…  At any rate, I am a huge fan of Lea’s. She is one of my heroes. Really, only one of a very few Butches that I look up to. So, when I saw the tattoo that Lea has on her arm on my own arm, I of course said, “Grab the camera!”

The following ensued…

  

  And, because I feel ridiculous when I try to “look sexy” or even “look extra Butch” for that matter, so did this…


  
I may not be as Butch as Lea, but I am Butch enough for me. It’s Butch to proclaim your Butchness in whatever way you see fit. Be Butch.  


BOT’s Box: Mail Call!

Check out this amazing mail call I had today…

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I received a stylish polo from Dapper D Fashions, a sassy postcard from Alpha Harlot, and this rad bow tie – skull and crossbones in wee Santa hats! I’m also particularly intrigued by a package I shall not describe just yet from Berman Innovations.

Thank you so much everybody!


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