“Rabbi Edwin Friedman tells the story of a man who had given much thought to what he wanted from life. After trying many things, succeeding at some and failing at others, he finally decided what he wanted.
One day the opportunity came for him to experience exactly the way of living that he had dreamed about. But the opportunity would be available only for a short time. It would not wait, and it would not come again. Eager to take advantage of this open pathway, the man started on his journey. With each step, he moved faster and faster. Each time he thought about his goals, his heart beat quicker, and with each step, he moved faster and faster. Each time he thought about his goal, his heart beat quicker; and with each vision of what lay ahead, he found renewed vigor.
As he hurried along, he came to a bridge that crossed through the middle of a town. The bridge spanned high above a dangerous river. After starting across the bridge, he noticed someone coming in the other direction. The stranger seemed to be coming toward him to greet him. As the stranger grew closer, the man could discern that they didn’t know each other, but yet they looked amazingly similar. They were even dressed alike. The only difference was that the stranger had a rope wrapped around his waist many times. If stretched out, the rope would reach a length of perhaps thirty feet.
The stranger began to unwrap the rope as he walked. Just as the two men were a bout to meet, the stranger said, “Pardon me, would you be so kind as to hold the end of this rope for me?” The man agreed without a thought, reached out, and took it.
“Thank you,” said the stranger. He then added, “Two hands now, and remember, hold tight.” At that point, the stranger jumped off of the bridge. The man on the bridge abruptly felt a strong pull from the now-extended rope. He automatically held tight and was almost dragged over the side of the bridge.
“What are you trying to do?” he shouted to the stranger below.
“Just hold tight,” said the stranger.
This is ridiculous, the man thought. He began trying to haul the other man in. Yet is was just beyond his strength to bring the other back to safety.
Again, he yelled over the edge, “Why did you do this?”
“Remember, “said the other, “if you let go, I will be lost.”
“But I cannot pull you up,” the man cried.
“I am your responsibility,” said the other.
“I did not ask for it,” the man said.
“If you let go, I am lost,” repeated the stranger.
The man began to look around for help. No one was within sight. He began to think about his predicament. Here he was eagerly pursuing a unique opportunity, and now he was being sidetracked by a stranger for who knows how long.
Maybe I can tie the rope somewhere, he thought. He examined the bridge carefully, but there was no way to get rid of his new found burden.
So he again yelled over the edge of the bridge, “What do you want?”
“Just your help,” came the answer.
“How can I help? I cannot pull you in, and there is no place to tie the rope while I find someone else who could help you.”
“Just keep hanging on,” replied the dangling man, “That will be enough.”
Fearing that his arms could not hold out much longer, he tied the rope around his waist. ”Why did you do this?” he asked again, “What possible purpose could have been in your mind?”
“Just remember, ” said the other, “my life is in your hands.”
Now the man was perplexed. He reasoned within himself, If I let go, all my life I will know that I let this other man die. If I stay, I risk losing my momentum toward my own long sought-after salvation. Either way, this will haunt me forever.
As time went by, still no one came. The man became keenly aware that it was almost too late to resume his journey. If he didn’t leave immediately, he wouldn’t arrive in time. Finally, he devised a plan.
“Listen,” he explained to the stranger hanging below. “I think I know how to save you.” He mapped out the idea: the stranger could climb back up by wrapping the rope around him and loop by loop the rope would become shorter. The dangling man had no interest in the idea.
“I don’t think I can hang on much longer,” warned the man on the bridge.
“You must try,” appealed the stranger, “If you fail, I die.”
Suddenly a new idea struck the man on the bridge. It was different and even alien to his normal way of thinking. “I want you to listen carefully,” he said, “because I mean what I am about to say.”
The dangling man indicated that he was listening.
“I will not accept the position of choice for your life; only for my own. I hereby give you back the position of choice for your own life to you.”
“What do you mean?” the other asked, suddenly afraid.
“I mean, simply, it’s up to you. You decide which way this ends. I will become the counterweight. You do the pulling and bring yourself up. I will even tug some from here.” He unwound the rope from around his waist and braced himself to be a counterweight. He was ready to help as soon as the dangling man began to act.
“You cannot mean what you say,” the other shrieked. “You would not be so selfish. I am your responsibility. What could be so important that you would let someone die? Do not do this to me.”
After a long pause, the man on the bridge uttered slowly, “I accept your choice.” In voicing those words, he freed his hands and continued his journey over the bridge.”
The End
So, above is the Oxford definition of gay. There isn’t any mention of sexuality. And I’m glad. What is “gay” anymore, anyway? Is it LGBTQA? Is it an acronym that keeps growing and changing over time? I finally learned the GLBT from the nineties and then it changed. Now it’s new all over again. June 2012, I had the fun and exciting privilege to spend the pride weekend and week in San Francisco, CA. I felt proud. It was a completely different world from my normal experiences. And it helped me see things I need to improve, and things I need to hold onto even more tightly. Apparently, in San Francisco, you are a backwards redneck Mississippi hick if you don’t know all of those and learn to use it. Even though I’m gay. And I am fabulous. And here, all this time - I thought the fact that I sucked dick and fucked guys is what made me “gay”. Now I have to be politically correct? I have to be an activist that takes into account the needs of the whole gay society? Good Lord, that’s a lot of pressure for a person like me. To be even more clear, I am a somewhat selfish, narcissistic individual that would rather slowly bleed to death than listen to your stance on politically correct terms for fags, dykes, and racial terminology. 
It is really sad when the sole purpose of some politicians and clergy are to demonize and create a horrific misrepresentation of a people. It’s painful to so many. And it scares many gay people and the lies, the rhetoric, and the “fight” tires them out. They don’t want to discuss their lives and educate their families and friends that believe the lies and pandering to political groups and lobbyists for the extreme right. But, I say, “Educate yourself. Take the time to know who and what you are. Know what your opponent is saying about you and be prepared to back up your rebuttal.” Even more personally, I say, “Bring it on!” Why, MichaelK, why would you say that and poke a sleeping bear, or pick a fight? Well, Gentle Reader, I say that because we used to be fabulous enough to make them cower in shame and fear. They knew they didn’t know that much about us. They knew that even though they looked down on us, they were intrigued and perplexed and somewhat entranced with our ability to keep right on being ourselves, being fabulous, and being brave under their localized terrorism and tyranny. We were hidden away and had better style, better hair, better wit, and were generally just better. But we’ve become so transparent and we’ve lessened our standards. We’ve been begging for equality so much, that we forget that on so many levels… gay men outrank, outshine, and just out-do straight men almost on every level and just about every day of the week. It’s sad to me that now they seem so comfortable to use us. They let us work for their political campaigns and style them for their TV debates. They want us with them WHILE they hate us and abuse us. Stockholm Syndrome, much? I’m saddened and moved to righteous anger that we, as gay people, just seem to want to cower, and do the status quo and fit in, rather than fight, demand our rightful and respectable seat at the table and stand out as the amazing creatures God created us to be.
