Hope you're enjoying your trip to the Grand Old Opry and Graceland.
I've been saving this story from the Boston Globe about gay Pilgrims at Plimouth for two months. Now the perfect day to share has arrived.
This is a cool story. Plimouth Plantation, home of ye olde historic Pilgrims, is in its second year of targeted outreach to gays and lesbians. Would I go? Heck, yeah. I'd jump at the opportunity to tromp around in heavy heeled buckled shoes, locking folks into the stocks, and hiding out in the corn fields with Squanto.
The Globe created a great window into the article with the story of two men caught in a gay relationship in 1637 Plymouth. They could have met death as a punishment. One was banished after being branded with a hot iron. The other was allowed to stay in Plymouth, but was forbidden to own property or participate in the political process, thus becoming the first in a proud heritage of gay men tucked into studio apartments thumbing their suspicious noses at politicians.
Much as I romanticize the past, I'm thankful for being here today with my freedoms, unlike the two gents in Plymouth. It's not a perfect world, but no branding irons either. Plus I have central heat and air, toilets, hot running water, and Bravo.