Back in 1979, before gay marriage was even on the radar, I went in search of an anniversary card for my then girlfriend. I know that I shouldn't have been surprised when I couldn't find one, not even a suitable generic one, but I was, and angry, too. After all, I was living in Atlanta, the gay capital of the south. Then, like the launching of so many of my projects, my mantra, “fuck it; I’ll do it myself,” set me in motion. The adventure started with a need and visualization. In 1980, I began selling heartfelt cards and posters for gays that portrayed us authentically. They took flight because there was a great need; Thousands of those posters and cards ended up being sold in gay stores all over the country (and two beyond the borders).
Fast forward 24 years. Today, my aunt sent me to buy a wedding card for my first cousin, who will marry the man of her dreams later this month. So I dutifully headed to the card aisle at Publix. Putting down my basket, I reached for the first card that caught my attention . . . “For the Brides.” And with a sigh of relief, I put it back on the rack . . . how far we have come. But the best part of this tale is my invitation to this wedding. It was addressed to Mrs. Danford and Mrs. Hawkins. Can I get a witness?!