In a Pinch, Wedded Bliss Is History

It’s over.

Finito.

Terminado.

I want to confess it here and now, before I’m laid bare in a gossip column.

When did the cracks in the marriage first appear? Long ago, I’m afraid. All that kept us together, really, was denial.

Our time together began about 10 years ago, when my wife-to-be lived in West Hollywood.

Need I say more?

We would often stroll along the devil’s own playground -- Santa Monica Boulevard. We used to walk past the French Market and go to the Abbey. Homosexuals were everywhere, and some of them walked hand-in-hand, openly professing their love.

It seemed perfectly normal, but that’s precisely the point. An insidious plague threatens those of us who happen to be straight shooters.

Once, in a crowded West Hollywood bar, a man pinched my left buttock.

“That guy just pinched me,” I told the lovely and talented Alison.

She asked if I enjoyed it.

I didn’t think so, but then again, we moved to Silver Lake.

When your neighborhood is always referred to as “artsy,” it’s code for you-know-what. The neighbor across the street was gay. Some of the regulars at the Coffee Table were gay. The couple we bought our house from was gay, and we became dear friends.

After you’ve been in Silver Lake a while, it seems perfectly normal to start drinking chai lattes. Were we subconsciously rejecting our own heterosexuality?

I don’t know, but our man-woman love seemed quaint, if not imperiled. And then Massachusetts took the plunge on same-sex marriage.

“The very fabric of society has been threatened,” I said to my wife. “I don’t know if our marriage can survive.”

“I can think of 100 better reasons to leave you than gay marriage,” she said.

“You don’t understand,” I sighed. “There’s only one thing that can save us.”

“A month in Paris?”

“No. A constitutional amendment.”

The leader of the free world came to the same conclusion a little too late. Only after San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom started handing out marriage licenses willy-nilly to gay couples did President Bush take action, calling for a constitutional ban on gay marriage.

You have to hand it to the man. United States schools are an embarrassment, we’re bleeding jobs, the deficit is sky-high, our young men and women are dying overseas, and yet Bush took time out of his busy election-year schedule to wag a presidential finger at gay sweethearts.

“If we are to prevent the meaning of marriage from being changed forever, our nation must enact a constitutional amendment to protect marriage in America,” Bush declared last week, warning of the “serious consequences” of inaction.

God bless America.

If we don’t make heterosexual relationships a national priority, there’s no telling what might happen. Couples could end up divorcing and screwing up their children’s lives. They might start having kids out of wedlock. They might run to Vegas for quickie marriages that don’t last until sunrise.

We can’t let any of that happen.

“The amendment process has addressed many serious matters of national concern,” Bush said. “And the preservation of marriage rises to this level of national importance.”

Why stop with a ban on gay marriages? I wondered.

The divorce rate in much of the Bible Belt runs far above the national average, so it might be worth considering at least a temporary ban on straight marriage in that region.

If you’re like me, you’ve met a lot of couples who make you think, “Dear God, let’s hope they don’t have children.” So there ought to be some qualifying standard for being allowed to procreate.

If you couldn’t do better than a C average in school, for instance, you shouldn’t be able to have kids, and you definitely shouldn’t be allowed to run for president.

But Bush is off to a good start with the ban on gay marriage. No one before him has had the courage to stand so tall against the national tumult that could result from Bob and Tom saying, “I do.”

For me, though, as I was saying, it’s too little too late.

More than 3,000 gay couples have already been married in San Francisco. First my wife and I didn’t speak, and then we fought, cracking under the pressure.

“I want the house,” she demanded.

“Damn that Rosie O’Donnell!” I cried.

It was as if O’Donnell and all those other smiley-faced gay newlyweds were trampling our marriage certificate.

Sure, the unions are being challenged in the state Supreme Court. But the very idea of same-sex marriage devalued our roles as man and wife, creating what Bush referred to as “confusion on an issue that requires clarity.”

I’m not sure what he meant by “confusion,” but I did suggest to my wife that we get a Shih Tzu, and I started pestering her with the same question, over and over again:

“Do I look fat to you?”

It’s over.

Finito.

Terminado.

It all began with that pinch in the rear, I know it.

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Steve Lopez writes Sunday, Wednesday and Friday.

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Look for sunshine and flowers this weekend in the paradise that calls itself Santa Paula.