Tomorrow's the day. Sevcik v. Sandoval.
I don't know how to wrap my head around this at all. It's the Nevada case equivalent to Prop 8 from California that's going to US Federal Court in Las Vegas. Eight same-sex couples are suing the State of Nevada for the right to marry, arguing that the domestic partnership benefits are not the same as marriage, and that the voter-approved amendment to the Nevada Constitution violates the fifth amendment of the United States Constitution. We'd like to be treated equally, not separately. And we'd like our rights back. Thanks.
But wait. The issue is not just yet another same-sex court case. It's not just yet another legal battle. No, no, no... It's sooooo much more personal. Or at least I have embedded it as that. My father is the Solicitor Attorney General for the State of Nevada. He's the one arguing for the state tomorrow. Standing up there, defending Nevada for being a goddamn bigot.
I don't even know where to begin. I'm up to my ears in daddy issues that I'll never explain on a 'public' sphere or begin to understand in my own mind. I've been angry with him probably most of my life but it's been awhile that I've felt absolutely betrayed. Betrayed and dismayed.
I know it's just his job. He pays the bills with that job. It's what got my child support check in the mail every month while I was growing up. He's one of the few guys out there who got his checks in and on time, no less. Financially he was usually there when I needed him. Got the bills paid albeit being a muscle-bound cheapskate as I got to knowing him. I totally appreciated that he works hard. He works every damn day of the week at that office. Did I mention I have daddy issues? We're not going there.
But it's also the only thing he puts his 100% into. He's a damn good lawyer. Once upon a time, I was extremely proud of him for his successes, his determination, and his convictions. As far as I can tell, it's his only conviction. I might be exposing too much on a blog in which no one reads, but who knows, the universe works in funny ways, and the wrong people read the right things in all the opportune moments, but at this rate, it doesn't matter. Nothing else phases him. He has no other convictions that I know of outside of his job. Not his house, not his dog, not his life. Just work.
So when it comes to tomorrow, I can only imagine how he works. Efficiently and tirelessly. My childhood memories of him are the few days with him a month at his office, or him reading me some book about metaphorical sheep when I was in fifth grade, or him celebrating his Supreme Court wins and seeing my grandparents drink alcohol for the first time. I know how he works.
I try to imagine him tomorrow working, and it's the only thing he loves to do. I think. I don't know. Maybe he hates it and doesn't know how to end it. Maybe he doesn't care and just trudges through the crap day in and day out on his apathy medication. But no. I imagine him exactly as he is in the courtroom. A fucking lawyer doing what he does. And he does it fucking well.
It baffles me. I imagine a movie. A movie where people pass him by on the street and there's this glaring emission, like a pop-up video, of "hey, there's that guy who prevented you from getting married next year". Yep, he's gonna be that guy who wins the case for Nevada against those fucking faggots.
I can't even focus on all the legal cases like Loving v. Virginia. I can't focus on the facts. I can't focus on the legal issue of my dad is simply defending the state for what it says on their law books. He's defending all the bigots who live in it and voted to make Nevada as hypocritically exclamatory as it is.
In Nevada, there's gamblers, lawyers, and prostitutes.
All in all, I'd make my company with the latter. The chicks come down from Mound House to Carson City to have a beer, and when it's all said and done, they're probably more wholesome and have a better story to tell than the rest of the fuckers that drop into that town. And what a state. I love Nevada. I was born there, raised there, and will probably die there. To be denied fundamental rights when the shit that is allowed there. I hate Vegas. I hate the business parks. I hate the ignoramus attitude. I hate the hate. But what can I do.
I just don't know where I sit with my pops. Can I disown him for representing the state? He's been more than supportive through all my shit. I came out to him in 2003, right before New Years, and he barely blinked. He was surprised, as I don't think he really sees anything until it slaps him in the face, but yet, there he was, he's been a staunch supporter of me and another that I definitely won't out here, even though she's done me one. He hasn't been the best with my career choices, my life choices, whatever. But I love him. I figure he loves me, I know he loves me, even though he doesn't know how to say it or express it (goddamn Baptists, what the fuck did you do to us), and we don't know how to even communicate anymore.
Yet, is there no 'conflict of interest' clause that he can get himself out of? Can he seriously represent Nevada against Lambda and not think twice about what he's doing? Can he honestly stand up there and say these are the reasons that my daughter, my sister, my cousin, my (fill in the blank) should not be able to marry in this state (that he so obviously loves)? The meds must be strong. It just makes me ill. I've been angry with him but it's been a long ass time since I've felt this betrayed.
Tomorrow is the day. I doubt it'll be the last. We're all still waiting for it to move its way up to the Supreme Court, but regardless, he wins... There ain't getting married in my own home state for a long while. And he's an exceptional lawyer. I have no doubt in his abilities. I wonder how he hopes it goes. I wonder ten years down the road, I go home with my girlfriend and I'm approaching 40 and I still can't get married. I wonder if I'll be able to look him in the eye and forgive him at that next Thanksgiving dinner. You represent the fucking bigots...
FUUUuuuuuuuck.
