Don’t count the red states out.  We’re the ones making history.

Annise Parker

Five years after the bruising marriage amendment fights of 2004 and the crushing defeat of a Democratic candidate who most expected to walk away with the Presidency, the deep-red South is showing itself to contain some remarkably bright blue dots.

While the New York State Senate was dodging its chance to allow gay couples to put a ring on it if they liked it, Simone Bell of Georgia was celebrating her victory as the the first African-American out lesbian elected to a statehouse, and Annise Parker was 10 days away from making Houston the largest city in America to elect an openly gay mayor.

Now granted, electing openly gay candidates doesn’t mean Georgia and Houston are about to advance LGBT civil rights overnight.  Georgia and Texas, you’ll remember, each voted 76-24 against marriage equality in 2004 and 2005, respectively.  But now I look at the regression analysis that predicts gays in Texas and Georgia will be able to tie the knot in 2018 and 2019, and suddenly it doesn’t seem as entirely far-fetched as it did in 2004.

That’s because the regression analysis is based on the two best friends progress ever had: The incremental sloughing off of the old power structure, and the dying off of the people who keep voting to keep it in place.  I mean, can you imagine what must have gone through people’s heads when Bobby Kennedy predicted — before the Civil Rights Act had even passed — that we’d have a black president right about now?

Shucks, I can’t even imagine a gay President.  Which is how I know I’m old.  I’m already on the front porch clucking my tongue about this new generation of whippersnappers and the world they’re about to inherit — and what they’re going to do with it.  And I love them for it.

Sitting on my proverbial front porch, I remember what it was like to jump on the schoolbus in Charlotte, N.C., in 1977 and ride across town to Billingsville Elementary, where I was a minority among mostly black classmates.  I had no idea my bus route was due to a six-year-old U.S. Supreme Court desegregation order, or that in February 1978 we were celebrating only the third Black History Month in America — which was an upgrade from the Negro History Week the nation had known for the previous 50 years.

In other words, my worldview — at least on issues of race — was just about completely divorced from that of my parents, who were only 13 years into post-Civil Rights Act America.  Martin and Bobby had only been dead nine years.  Yet I took integration, my majority-black school and Black History Month completely for granted.

Knowing this, I’m now more than a little geeked up about the worldview of the 2009 version of me: A second-grader who doesn’t think twice about a black lesbian state legislator riding up to a Southern statehouse on her motorcyle and going to work for those who have no political voice.  A world where an openly gay mayor of America’s fourth largest city is seen on national TV celebrating with her partner of 19 years and their three kids.

But while we’re waiting for the second-graders to inherit the world, there’s some work we can do now.  And the elections in Georgia and Texas kinda point the way: To the pulpit.  In Houston, the ugliest attacks on Annise Parker came from pastors — yep, pastors.  Here in Georgia, there was a brief kerfuffle when campaign volunteers attempted to start a similar sectarian whisper campaign against Simone Bell.

In the end, neither effort mattered; Annise and Simone trounced their opponents.  And while I can’t speak for Annise’s campaign, I know Simone’s victory was in part because she let it roll off her back while she continued her one-on-one conversations with actual voters.

So what I take away from all this is that we’ve got to keep having those one-on-one conversations.  With neighbors.  With pastors.  With the next generation.  The voters of Houston and of Georgia’s 58th statehouse district have proven that when they meet, touch and talk to an actual out gay person, they react to the content of that person’s character first and foremost.

I remember being taught something about that in February 1978 in Charlotte, N.C.  And what do you know?  It’s turned out to be abundantly true.

So as of this writing, New York is bucking the regression analysis, which said we’d have marriage equality there this year.  But New York will still beat Georgia and Texas to the punch, I have no doubt.  It’s just a matter of time, of a changing of the guard — and of a changing worldview, one second-grader at a time.

Anyone who tells you that hard work is the key to success in life is only telling you part of the story.  It takes hard work and a little help from your friends.  Actually, a lot of help.

And that help — plus yes, some serious hard work — is what made it possible for my friend Simone Bell to jump into a five-way special election for a vacant Southern statehouse seat at just about the last minute and pull it out from under some real contenders who had a headstart not just in time, but also in fundraising, political support and just about everything else you’d put on your list of What I Need to Win A Statehouse Race.

The help came from black lesbian bikers who knocked door-to-door weekend after weekend.  It came from family members who shelved their lives and careers in Detroit and elsewhere to move into Simone’s house and cook, make phone calls, attend meetings and play chauffeur.  It came from people who knocked on the front door and stuffed $5 into Simone’s hand.

It also came from the Georgia transgender community: Cheryl Courtney-Evans, who turned Simone’s front porch into her own campaign call center; Chanel Haley, who claimed a spot on Simone’s sofa and seemingly never left it as she phone-banked her way into ultimately running the campaign phone banks; and Vandy Beth Glenn, who stood with me on a cold street corner on the morning of Simone’s victory, urging voters to send Simone to the very Legislature from which Vandy Beth had been fired when she announced her intention to transition from male to female.

The help came because Simone has spent 20 years doing the kind of community organizing that some folks still don’t seem to understand even after they elected a President with that on his resume.  And as anyone who works in any kind of community can tell you, when you put yourself out there the way Simone has, you make a lot of friends.

It started when Simone realized she had a passion for equal access to healthcare.  It continued when she and her partner, Val, moved to Atlanta’s Reynoldstown neighborhood and helped longtime residents do things like shut down a bar that had opened across from an elementary school.  And it brought her to Lambda Legal, where she traveled to 13 Southeastern states as an out black lesbian, organizing local communities who had experienced horrors such as the partner-visitation tragedy at Jackson Memorial Hospital in Miami; the arrest and outing of 40 gay men in the Tri-Cities of Tennessee/Virginia, some of whom lost their jobs (one even committing suicide); and the firing of Vandy Beth Glenn.

So while I was standing with Vandy Beth on that cold street corner holding my Simone Bell sign and complaining about my numb feet, I might have been feeling a little bitchy, but that was just on the surface.  Deep down, I was so proud of my brothers and sisters who had hit the big pause button on their own lives to help Simone get to the finish line.

Simone’s campaign proved that when you put yourself on the line for people, they give it back to you tenfold.  What we may have lacked in time, money and clout, we gained in beautiful people who showed up weekend after weekend to knock on doors, make phone calls and pull together house parties.

In a normal statehouse campaign, you probably have about three core volunteers; Simone had more than 70 before we gave up counting.  Now that the campaign’s over, I might be feeling a little lost — but I’ve got 70-plus new friends, and dang do we feel powerful!

Well we’re all Forty-Niners now!

Lundon Calling’s 49th show was spectacular!  Lance was able to keep Ace at bay for about 5 minutes, but Ace made it very clear to Lance that his name is on the Marquee–he does NOT appreciate being interrupted!

Happy Samhain, everyone!  Happy Halloween everyone else!  Happy BOTH Saint Patrick!

We discussed a lot from religion, DADT, David Mixner’s Live from Hell’s Kitchen, Las Vegas, Last House on the Left, Bilerico.com, Detroit and Simone Bell, to Hate Crimes legislation, to the March (again) and what we’re doing now, to Islam and sexual harassment–even straight people! What’s your opinion of Fox News?  Do you think Ace should switch the channel or is he right to watch?

Where do you get your news?  I get mine from CNN.com, LGBT blogs, Newser–am I too limited, too biased?  Who’s getting better news–Ace or me?

Hey Lance–where do you get your news?  Lets see if he’s reading this!

We talked a lot about transgender protections in Hate Crimes legislation and the Employment Non-Discrimination Act.  Are you transgender?  What do you think of the Hate Crimes legislation?  Do you think we’re going to get an inclusive ENDA?

Do you like our new theme music?  I have always LOVED the Clash!  I think part of the reason Ace talked me into co-hosting this show is because its named after a Clash song!

ARE YOU IN VEGAS?  Go see Ace this weekend!  I’m sure he’d LOVE to meet you!

Til NEXT WEEK, babies!