Savage Love

I was listening to the local NPR's fund-raising drive. This happens, I believe, twice a year. There are critics who think the government shouldn't fund a leftist radio organization, the same kind of critics who say the government shouldn't fund the NEA (National Endowment for the Arts) because of artists like Robert Mapplethorpe (do a Google image search if you want to see what kind of photos Mapplethorpe is noted for).

Fortunately, NPR seems to do a pretty good job of staying afloat from people who pledge during beg-a-thons. It's also a great time to listen to best stories that have been broadcast on the air. When you listen to these, you really see how deprived evening news, and even all-news networks like CNN are. If anything, NPR makes the stories more personal, and that makes it all the better.

One story I heard was about an Iraqi war veteran. He's suffering from post-war trauma. In this war, he had to kill for the very first time, and he had to do it time and again. He could justify the killing to some extent. He did it to protect himself. Even so, it takes quite a deal more iciness to have a complete disregard for life, even as most people's nature is to distinguish between them and us. They are inhumane. We are good people. They are monsters. We are solid folk.

This was one of the more harrowing stories I've heard, made all the more powerful because it was partly narrated by the man.

Another story was the origin of the song Ring of Fire, which Johnny Cash was well-known for. Johnny Cash was, until the time of his death, seen as a long-time country star. Since many people aren't country fans, that was all anyone knew about Cash.

When he died, there was a resurgence in the popularity of his music, due, I suspect, in large part to his deep, resonant voice, his abuse of drugs, and the darkness of his lyrics. Suddenly, it was hip for college-aged kids to revisit the songs of Johnny Cash. There's even a film with Joaquim Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon as the leads.

Ring of Fire was, as it turns out, written by June Carter, who became Cash's wife. Except, at the time, she was not his wife. Both Cash and Carter were married. Carter was Nashville country royalty. Her mother was also a singer, and highly regarded. She was also raised religious, a good Southern Christian, who beliefed in hell and brimstone for sinners. And she lusted after Johnny Cash, a man that was not her husband.

She wrote a song Ring of Fire, to express this forbidden love, about a person descending into hell. She eventually divorced her husband, and Cash eventually divorced his wife, and they married, and basically lived happily ever after.

Another of the fabulous stories was that of Dan Savage. Now, I know very little of Dan Savage. I knew he wrote a column called, not surprisingly, Savage Love, which is a kind of advice column, I think. His name suggests, well, a kind of savageness, even though, that's quite a silly thought to have.

I didn't even know Dan Savage was gay. So, he is. He's been with his partner for about ten years. A few years ago, he and his partner decided to adopt D. J. During the height of the 2004 elections, one major topic that got a lot of play was gay marriage. It said something of the moderately insidious nature of this topic that it both pushed gay marriage further than it has been pushed, and yet galvanized the religious conservative base to vote on referendums that basically acknowledged that states considered it illegal to have same-sex marriages.

This was a bit of deception. Those who were encouraged to vote believed that not voting meant tacit approval of gay marriage, or even legalizing it. Conservatives in the know did not do much to disguise this untruth.

Dan's parents, one Catholic, one a Republican, wanted Dan and his partner to get married. They wanted them to show their commitment to one another through marriage. The two had only given it casual thought. As Dan says, when you admit you're gay, you are also saying that you are willing to give up marriage, kids, the whole lot. And, until last year, many political gays just felt Americans weren't ready to deal with gay marriage, and so gay marriage wasn't top on the list of political agenda items to push.

When it became the hot button issue, one of the people opposed was D. J. who was about 5 years old. He thought of marriage as something girls wanted, and guys didn't like marriage, so his parents shouldn't get married.

Now, I've never heard Dan Savage speak, until I heard this segment. For all I knew, he sounded like Howard Stern, a deep, practiced radio voice. Instead, he has the prototypical NPR voice, somewhat timid, and unassertive. I don't mean that he sounds stereotypically gay, because he doesn't. There's no lilt or camp in his voice.

The typical NPR female voice, to my mind, is basically the voice of Lisa Simpson. Remember the Johnny Cash story? It was narrated by Sarah Vowell. She did Violet's voice in The Incredibles, the shy, invisible girl character. She sounds like Lisa Simpson.

I can't really do the story justice. You should really listen to it yourself. Here's the link: Zing Zing, Zoom Zoom. You need RealAudio to listen to it. Go about 19 minutes into it. You'll be glad you did.