I spent the weekend in Atlanta with Will, and on Saturday we went to one of the rallies against Prop 8. The last time I went to a demonstration, it was against the Iraq war, and I did a pretty shitty job then. It was on UGA's north campus, and I was all ready to protest my little heart out, until I got there. The first people I saw were Bathrobe Billy and the League of the South. I ended up standing quietly off to the side, as if to say, "Yeah, I'm against the war, but I don't know these people."
The Atlanta protest was supposed to include a candlelight vigil, which was a challenge, because the wind wouldn't stop blowing. Will kept relighting our tapers, but we finally had to give up.
Thankfully, there was a guy there giving out posterboard and markers to anyone who wanted to make a sign. The people around us had some great ones--my favorites included "Progess doesn't grow on bigotries"--in the shape of a tree, "Jesus had two fathers," and "Who do you think designed your wedding dress?" There were also lots of puns involving the number eight, "Stop the H8," "Gays are GR8," etc., and it made me wonder why no one was commenting on the other gay marriage bans that were just passed. I briefly considered "Florida is Bigoted 2," but I didn't know if anyone in Atlanta would get it. We kept thinking. Here we were, two writers, so surely we could come up with something witty, right?
Ok, so we don't work well under pressure.
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