The Hero of HARVEY MILK

"People told him no openly gay man could win political office. Fortunately, he ignored them."

Well, the other night, Will and I walked through the snow to the Cedar Lee Theater, which opened clear back in 1925. It's well known in Cleveland for being a fantastic venue for independent, foreign, and art-house films.

I was really irritated with Will for some stupid reason I can't even remember...Because I can be a real shithead like that. So, we were bundled up, trudging through the snow and cold to finally go see "MILK". And I was huffing and puffing all the way; a bull ready for a bullfight with no true red cape in sight. Treating the most important person in my life like shit...

This isn't an excuse, but I often get stressed out going to the movies. I don't know why...Well, I kinda do...I think it's because I usually want to slap at least 5 people in my immediate vicinity when the movie begins. Someone is invariably talking, or rustling plastic wrap or masturbating or trying to feel my boobies. In any case, it's obnoxious. Usually...Unless it's Barack trying to feel my boobies. Then, it's cool. Or rather, hot. But, seeing how that hasn't happened yet, I remain pissed at people who think they're in their Living Room at home.

So anyway, I'm not proud to say that I was unfortunately caring out a pre-emptive strike on Will in anticipation of the rude fuckers at the movie...I suppose...We'll blame it on them. Ironically, blurring the lines of rudeness, because I was being rude myself.

Well, I tried to let my "mood" go and Will and I settled into our seats. During the previews, there were a few people whispering here and there. And I was contemplating if my arm could reach as far as their heads.

But then, the movie began. And everyone settled down. And that was it. The story and Sean Penn's performance drew me in and pulled me under. And for the duration of the film and long after, I felt hope and anger and desperation. I felt joy and heartache. I laughed and smiled and not just cried, but wept.

It was more than a ride. It was a journey. And I was a helpless passenger.

Will and I left the packed theater among a throng of people who had extremely damp eyes and speechless tongues. The group of us were quiet. As in reverence...And then Will and I walked home through the snow silently. But I barely noticed the cold...or the slippery ice. And I barely noticed the traffic driving by.

What I did notice was that I felt immense gratitude to Gus Van Sant for making this film. And I felt gratitude and awe at the performances in it. And I was thankful that Will kept on me to go see it. And most of all, I felt gratitude and humility for Harvey Milk and his friends and colleagues.

And catching my breath, I felt inspired.

I didn't get a chance to before. But, Thank you...Thank you, Mr. Milk. I'm from Warren, Ohio. And it's nice to know you.