Hello, Friends,

Last week, I had the good fortune of sharing one of my Congressional Spouse stories with Advocate magazine (www.advocate.com). I’ve received numerous letters of support following its publication. It always makes me happy when I have reason again to remember how cohesive the LGBTQ community can be. Please follow the link below to read the full text:

http://www.advocate.com/News/Daily_News/2009/12/12/Gay_Partners_of_Congress_Members_Face_Inequity/

Salutations, Friends,

With the White House Holiday Ball now past, I begin my countdown to Friday, and the imminent return to Colorado. But while time slips fast away, and my memory is fresh, let me share a tale or two about the Ball.

I began Monday attending the Congressional Spouse Holiday luncheon. Seventy or so spouses showed up, and we visited for two hours in the Energy and Commerce Committee room in the Rayburn House Office Building. It was a wonderful choice of venue, as the room is naturally finished with a red carpet and thick, red velvet draperies. All that wanted were a hundred red and yellow poinsettias, and these were procured and arrayed exquisitely, as a backdrop against the plush draperies. Three courses were prepared, of which I could enjoy only the salad portion, which was a sidenote to the egg frittata. But my being vegan didn’t spoil the beauty of the ceremony. I spoke for the better part of two hours, with Ramona Grijalva, whose husband, Raul, represents in Arizona. It was fun to see everyone out of the ordinary grind, and in such high spirits! At the end, a tray of cookies passed each table, and I took one to share with Jared.

Then it was back home to prepare for the White House. The invitation noted “Black Tie” attire, and so I prepared our tuxedoes. I could hardly believe it, but it had been a year since I last donned mine during President Obama’s Inauguration! It was only slightly less comfortable than I recalled!

Thanks to Representative Glenn Nye, who circumstances compelled to be elsewhere on Monday night, we inherited one of his tickets, and invited Jared’s sister, Jordanna to accompany us.

The party began at 7pm, and at 7, we arrived. All told, over 800 people lined up at the White House gate. There were Senators and Representatives and Spouses and some children. Normally, security wouldn’t be so tight, but we were checked at three different gates owing to a couple that crashed a White House event two weeks ago. Now everyone had to pay the price and show their Congressional IDs. Good thing I found mine after losing it a few months ago!

Inside, the White House was lushly decorated for the season. Nearly every room in the East Wing (where the party was held) sported a Christmas Tree and multiple appetizer stations. Whatever cuisine you liked, there was a station serving it! Jared, devoted as he is to sushi, was delighted to find its purveyor in one of the State Dining Rooms. I even discovered that they were serving vegan sushi, and I indulged!

In addition to sushi, I noticed potato latkes, shrimp, and a whole host of dips and bite-size hors d’oeuvres.  cakes! So many cakes, this one of gingerbread with cream cheese frosting, that one vanilla with chocolate. And part of the fun was seeing how eagerly the crowd devoured these delicacies. As soon as the last slice was absconded with, a White House Staffer breezed in with a whole new cake. It was beautifully orchestrated without the slightest interruption in service.

The trees were quite a sight to behold. In the “Blue Room” (my personal favorite), the tree looked to be sixteen feet tall. In another room, a tree sported ornaments each with the name of one of the fifty states. We found Colorado, and it was turquoise in color!

My favorite decoration, though, was a gingerbread “White House”. Four feet long, and two feet wide, it was a substantial piece. To achieve the white color, the pastry chefs enrobed the gingerbread in white chocolate. The final touch was a cutout wall on the left side of the house, which revealed inside, a fully-appointed room with an electric chandalier, shelves of books, and a writing desk. I asked a staffer nearby how long it took to produce, and he answered eight weeks. Apparently, each year features a different gingerbread house. During the Clinton Administration, Hillary commissioned a version of her childhood home.

Aside from all the gorgeous lights and decorations, I was able to visit with many friends. Particularly exciting for me was running into Elizabeth Kucinich, who, along with Dennis, is a prominent vegan. We talked for about ten minutes, and arranged to have coffee the following day.

Last but not least, we had our picture snapped with the President and First Lady, who were looking wonderful, as usual.

Tomorrow night, I’m leading a constituent tour of the West Wing, so it’s been a very White House-themed week for me! Just the perfect note to end on before returning to Colorado!

Greetings, Friends,

Today, two very different topics are united in one post!

Two nights ago, my partner and I were driving en route to our favorite falafel shop in D.C., and we began to discuss dreams. I’ve always been of a mind bent on finding meaning in mysterious places. Hidden in plain sight, are the answers to life’s most complex questions. And yet, through the miasma of social conditioning and an inability to dismiss affairs in the real world, often, we miss what would be otherwise very obvious. In dreams, perhaps, we discover answers to questions that the waking mind stumbles over.

When I asked him what meaning he assigned to dreams, my partner answered that they are a product of the subconscious. So we agreed.  I then posed the following: we use only the merest part of our brains to accomplish the many wonderful and terrible objectives of civilization and art, so contends many a scientist and scholar; does it not, then, stand to reason that the subconscious originates in that portion of the brain of which we use no part? And further, that if dreams there orginate, are they not also the proof that we are capable of thinking in ways very different from those to which we are accustomed? Are dreams not confusing precisely because they are the product of a brain we never use and a way of thinking we never engage? I wonder if we could somehow determine a way to harness that extra brain power, we would all of us be ten times, even one hundred times more perceptive, more capable of answering vexing questions. Might we, then, be truly enlightened? And might not the meanings that we stretch at length to find, appear plainly before us and within our reach? Might we not see the planes that hover all about us, forever lost beyond the third dimension? I am not suggesting anything supernatural, but as a point for debate, the place where our dreams orignate. And whether we ought to heed them, or else disavvow them as nothing more than arbitrary assemblies of images we’ve seen during our waking hours.

I know I am not alone in contemplating questions that my logical mind seems impotent to answer. Where else can we turn? Do we even have the capacity to answer such questions? That we are able to ask the question, is this not proof that we are able also to answer it?

Anyway, enough philosophy. Last night, I attended the National Christmas Tree Lighting ceremony at The White House. The tree was quite stunning, bedecked and bedizened with a million shimmering lights. It is also the first energy-efficient tree in the history of the ceremony, decorated entirely with LED bulbs, which means that it will consume less than half of the power that it has in previous years. The wonderful thing about LEDs is that, while they are more energy-efficient, they are also far brighter than regular bulbs. So the finished product is better all-around!

The program was also lovely. My partner and I sat in the third row from the stage, with the rest of the Colorado delegation, including Congresswoman Betsy Markey and her lovely husband, Jim. Why the awesome seats? Because the ceremony is hosted by the National Parks division of the Department of the Interior, and it so happens Colorado’s own Ken Salazar is the Secretary of The Interior. Instant VIP treatment! Thanks Ken!

A few of my favorite acts from the ceremony:

Michelle Obama reading “‘Twas The Night Before Christmas” onstage to a covey of wide-eyed children

Jordan Sparks’ rendition of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas”

“Carol of The Bells” performed by the wonderful Irish quartet “Celtic Woman”

and, of course, President Obama’s fantastic address.

Afterwards, my partner’s sister and I took a picture in front of the tree (thanks Jo!):

Last, but not least, a humorous photo showing Santa’s Workshop, which was arranged a few paces from the stage. Note the snipers on the roof (a regular sight here in DC); I, in my wonder at all the pretty lights, mistook them for Green Army Men (the toys!) I also think it’s quite cool to see Washington Monument in the far background:

All Pictures: Jordanna Schutz 2009

Greetings, Friends, and Happy Wednesday,

I write today with just a few fun and note-worthy updates.

The holiday season is fast upon us, and all around are its unmistakable heralds: the lights, the music, bows and wrapping paper. But what does it look like in Washington, DC? 

On rages the healthcare debate, but in its midst, jollity appears to be taking hold. For a few, brief days in December, the world will shed its woes for happier garments of optimism and gratitude. I love the quiet contentment of December; its gently cascading snowflakes; its empty streets. Of course, all of this happens after the shoppers have done with their wars, and the spending is at an end. It is the moment when the world shuts down and we are commited to staying home. For once, we excuse ourselves from the tables of the world,  to remember why it is a gift to be alive. 

Jared and I have now received our invitation to the White House holiday party. It comes printed on beautiful, red cardstock, with gold embossments:

“The President and Mrs. Obama request the pleasure of your company at a Holiday Ball in honor of the Members of Congress to be held at The White House on Monday, December 7, 2009 at seven o’clock”.

That same day of the 7th, I will also attend a Democratic Spouses Holiday luncheon, and in the evening, a ceremonial tree-lighting at the White House.

It will be nice to meet everyone on the occasion of something more uplifting than politics.

One last trick…here is a photo from our family’s Thanksgiving celebration in San Diego, California:

I’m so proud that my partner is using part of his stage to emphasize the importance of providing vegetarian options in schools. Here’s a video from a press conference he did on this important issue: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJ6P-PDAJdg

P.S. Big thanks to my friend and fellow vegan, Matt Bear, who came all the way to Washington, D.C. to lobby on behalf of reforming our school lunch program!

There are people who would rather forget the identities they left behind. They are happier in the present, or in contemplating the future. But I am nostalgic, and always have been. It must be some quirk in my personality that always, I am happier in working out a way to return to something foregone, than to find merit and worth in what I have become. The result is never good enough, so I return to the parts, to find the broken link.

I began this day poring over old music. A friend recently confessed to me that her music rarely changes. I suppose she is listening now to what she listened to ten years ago, and before that, twenty years ago. There is a comfort in having music that stays with you. But I have thousands of songs saved to my computer. They represent the phases of my life, the thoughts that consumed me, the feelings that would not let me rest. It seems every time I wanted to change, I found music to guide me on. Or perhaps the music found me, a song that hinted at a new possibility, and so commenced my searching for a new identity. Whatever it was, I left behind the old songs, because their messages had grown tired. They reminded me of what was old and needed to change.

Now, as I listen to songs from long ago, I find they are markers of moments past. It is hard to recapture the unique power that inspired or the circumstance that compelled. When we attempt to recover that which was ardent, often, we find it burnt-out. It fills us with longing, though we do not know precisely for what it is we yearn. 

So it is with these songs. They remind me of something, something I want back, but what is it? Who was I then?  What was it in the notes, in the lyrics, that so perfectly reflected my sense of self? Who was that boy who found solace or hope or even despair in these songs? Is it possible that I was better off then, or is it simply the mind as it gilds and romanticizes that which it cannot entirely recall? Memory is imperfect, and when it is time to remember, if what we seek is not there, then we fashion something out of nothing. Always, it is a happier memory if it is one we must fabricate. For what good do sad memories do us? And this is why nostalgia confuses me. It is hard to see past the present, because it is so much in our faces. How can we get past what became our reality, to see what we hoped the reality would be? 

Hastily, I attempted some semblance for the songs that sounded in my ear like the past. But I found my memories jumbled. So much that was distinct–or that seemed distinct–is now murky. There is no common theme. There is no thread that I can see, that I can again weave into a whole.

I think this is a long process: recovering the past, learning from it. It won’t work simply to try organizing songs, because songs are feelings, and feelings never make sense. They are naturally out of order. So perhaps I’ll start with one, and slowly step back, slowly remember. Perhaps that is the only way to lay bare the secrets that were once mine to keep. How strange to think that I can keep secrets from myself.

Now that Halloween is past, I feel I must dwell upon its successes, but also upon the hollow that it leaves behind. It is very much more to me than a simple holiday. Its promise is not merely of masqueraders and surfeits of candy. Nor is it altogether an excuse to frighten with possibilities of evil incarnate. For me, Halloween is a chance for imagination. It is a reign of twenty four hours, in which dreams come to life, not all of them felicitous. That which is terrifying or dazzling or enchanting, may stalk the Earth in earnest, without fear that its guise be judged doubtful or its existence, untenable. I adore that suspension of disbelief, that willingness to see what is unusual, not to dismiss it or debunk it, but to marvel its aspects. Such is the plight of adulthood, that its eyes are too jaundiced and its mind too rusty to accept what is fantastical. 

For me, it is tragic to be uninspired simply because things are not logical. Much is illogical that, nevertheless, we embrace. What is more at odds with the rational mind than the feeling heart? Emotions are entirely inexplicable, but we feature them without question. We are, to our feelings, inextricable. How can a person lay eyes upon the colors that burst with juice-like quality, and not savor the notion that magic truly exists? Impossible, that shadows lurk in our midst, trembling, yet impotent to capture our fancy! I say that these things are real if only we allow them the dignity of their suggestions. A dream may be nothing more than a series of images strung together nonsensically, yet we waken in the morning with something to think about. Those images that seemed incoherent bear long in our memories and affect what we do in our waking moments. They inspire us to see what is too terrible or too wonderful to accept.

Poring over the photos from my Halloween party, I was too aware that what I designed was an illusion, and that the revelers saw it all as nothing more than a sophisticated set only to be dismantled at 2am. I wanted those scenes to capture the imagination and to teach my guessts the beauty of a life that could truly exist. For my own part, I have always felt an affinity for anachronisms. All that I admire is a throwback to earlier centuries. I am enamored of the customs and the etiquette of former societies. I love the clothes of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. I love the styles of writing and music and art. I love the gloom of a world unilluminated by electricity, and uncongested by media. There is an elegance about times that forewent our own. There is a communion lost, that people of those eras enjoyed with nature and art. Many of us cannot imagine the appeal of living in a world absent the modern conveniences to which we are accustomed, but I can!

As always, I will continue to live my life according to my passions, be they antiquated or new-fangled, foolish or wise. It truly means something to embrace the unknown and to believe in that which may seem unbelievable.  I hope everyone had a fantastic Halloween! Hold on to the magic!

Greetings, Friends,

It delights me to present these lush documentary photos of my 2009 Halloween party.

Copyright: David Mejias 2009

Half an hour ago, I received a frightened text message from a close friend. It was two lines long, and read, “”Help! X is being held in immigration detention Chicago!”

My friends have been partners for ten years. One is American, the other is English. But for the admirable length of their relationship, they have suffered under the yoke of our country’s broken immigration system. Much is written, and little done to reform this little-known travesty in an otherwise free society. Like so much in our civilization that is not civilized, injustice lurks in places few of us ever think to look. How many of us can claim to truly understand the terror and hopelessness of having a loved one imprisoned on nameless accounts? My friend’s partner had with him all the proper documentation. He had his passport, and his papers showing that he lived and worked in England. He had proof that his trip to the United States was just that: a trip. Yet, as he made way for his connecting flight in Chicago, these things were ignored and he was escorted to a room where he was made to wait without any line to the outside world. His passport was confiscated and his papers seized. At this point, let it again be said and heard that my friend was merely en route to Colorado to spend time with his partner of ten years. By fault of yet another blemish on our nation’s conscience–the Defense of Marriage Act–as a same-sex couple, my friends are unable to wed. Owing to that law, for the last ten years, each time X comes to visit, they relive the fear that he will be detained by immigration authorities. Has our country gone mad that we allow such things to take place?   

And what does one do when one has no one to call, no friends in high places? One waits, perhaps indefinitely, before being deported. Imagine all of this happening, simply from a desire to spend time with one’s family! It’s beyond shameful.

I am so happy that my friend contacted me when this happened. I was able to bring it to the attention of my partner, whose special interest is immigration reform. As a Congressman, he has more clout in these circumstances than the average citizen, and within seconds, preparations were made to solve the problem. But I am sensitive to those who, as I said, have no connection within the system of government that seizes them. They have no one on whom to depend.

After speaking with my friend, he told me that after this experience, X no longer feels that he can make the trip to the United States. The stress is too much. And because of these foolish laws that help no one, my friend must now consider either ending his relationship of ten years or else leaving the United States to be with his partner in England. Our country is tearing apart families. It’s a tragedy that deserves our utmost sensitivity, our unconditional compassion, and our adamance that this system be changed.

Hello, Friends,

Last week, I was lucky enough to participate in a special CNN profile of Congressional Spouses. I carried a camera around for all my daily routines and learned that it is no easy thing, talking about oneself on cue! Nevertheless, this was an important opportunity and one that I hope you find worthwhile. Without further ado, I present “A Day in the Life of a Congressional Spouse”:

www.cnn.com/video/#/video/politics/2009/10/14/freshman.year.ep18.cnn