Rob Watson

There was a deeper profound loss in the news for me in learning of Robin Williams’ death, something very personal, and it took a night of sleep for me to fully get a sense as to what it is. I am a dad. It is the part of my being with which I identify first and most strongly. As I awoke this morning, the first morning of a Robin Williams-less world, I felt a loss in the definition of what it is to be a dad…

Last weekend, Ian Thorpe, who Australian politician Penny Wong called her country’s “greatest Olympian,” came out as a gay man. In doing so, he follows in the footsteps of a number of brave public celebrities and a number of athletes from around the globe. There was an aspect to Thorpe’s disclosure which was dramatically more poignant than his predecessors, however…

If you are gay, and you are wishing upon a star, it is probably not a good idea for it to be the Lone Star of Texas. This past week, that particular entity has been more than a little dim in terms of passing out bright news for gay people. The Texas anti-gay rhetoric has been more absurd, if that is possible, than it has been in other LGBT unfriendly states.

As a gay dad to two boys adopted from foster care as babies, I can tell you that what Anita Bryant WAS trying to do was de-humanizing.  Under the rallying cry of “save our children” she fought to keep gay people away from children. I can only imagine what she would think of me saving mine from death and disaster at the hand of drug addicted birth parents.  She stated, “As a mother, I know that homosexuals cannot biologically reproduce children; therefore, they must recruit our children.”

One of the strangest cornerstones of life in new millennium media is not the question on whether someone will blame a current tragedy on the LGBT community, it is how quickly they will run to do it. From 9/11, to earthquakes, to floods and British rain, it is LGBT caused, according to these factions.

The Isla Vista killings were no different.

Thanks to the television show “Glee,” the slushie has been elevated from an overly sugary refreshment to an act of public humiliation. Not since a cream pie hit the face of Anita Bryant, has a caloric treat wielded such stature. Previously, the slushie had been confined to fictional encounters. It has now entered our reality. On Mother’s Day 2014, a young woman named Jessica Prince became so irate that she felt compelled to throw a red slushie at an anti-gay protester (watch here) You might call it, The Slushie Heard Around the World…

If you haven’t heard of Darrell Trigg or his intentions, don’t feel bad. In terms of his real objective and vision, he is not actually running for President. He really wants to be our King. The monarchs of old saw their leadership ordained by God, their authority blessed and their decrees sacrosanct and immediately actionable. Mr. Trigg’s view of himself coincides, as he states, “He has revealed Himself to me spiritually…” and “I know that it is His will for me to be the next President of the United States of America.”

Gabriel did not die because his moms were lesbian. His death was not the byproduct of homophobia. His fate was not because of a violation of any legal custody issues. His story is bigger than any of that. His story is about love, sacrifice and the true meaning of being a parent. His story is one that brings the bigoted preconceived notions around same sex parenting to its knees. When I heard the story of Rachel and Heidi, I wept over what had happened to them. This is my letter from a dad to two moms.

Corey did not have an easy life.

Fred Phelps is dead. Many will celebrate, and many will make comments about picketing his funeral in an eye-for-an-eye retaliation. I will not be among them. I do not respect Fred Phelps, nor do I forgive the pain he inflicted, but I value him. I value what he contributed to the struggle for LGBT equality. I am grateful that because of his presence, millions woke up to understand homophobia better and to confront it…