...not to live in South Dakota.
First, I am a lesbian and so, you may ask yourself, why would I give a hoot if abortion were legal or not? For me to get pregnant would be, shall we say, a miracle or some sort of well-planned event but never an accident.
Secondly, I live in the State of Washington where abortion is and has been legal for many, many years so why do I give a hoot about South Dakota?
Lastly, isn't this what we all expected with Bush as a president...the not so slow movement to the extremist right so why should I be so surprised by South Dakota's legislature banning abortion?
My answer to #1: If they can invade the bodies of women in South Dakota, they are one step closer to invading the bodies of those they feel immoral...like lesbians. But more importantly, ALL women should have the right to CHOOSE...and I'm not just talking bodies here.
My answer to #2: This is a bit more involved. Last summer, Ann and I drove back to Michigan to visit, of all people, her ex and her adopted daughter. Visiting the ex and her daughter was a trip, but I'll save that for another post...maybe. The drive TO Michigan was the real eye opener. Washington driving was okay...familiar and relatively safe. Montana was just big, but beautiful, but the bigness got to us after awhile. Wyoming was scary because of the two thunder storms we travelled between and the number of Halliburton trucks that passed us and the memory of Mathew Shepard's death.
But South Dakota was one of the most frightening places I have ever been. I didn't mind the landscape, though I hated the enormous billboards advertising innane tourist traps like Wall Drug. What got to me was when we pulled into our hotel and wandered, hungry and tired, into the dining room that offered an "All You Can Eat" seafood bar!
Who are they shittin? Seafood? In landlocked South Dakota?
We ordered something mundane, which included a trip to the salad bar...the ICEBERG lettuce salad bar!
This was all comical and as Ann always says, "If you didn't have a good time at least you have a good story!" But the frightening part happened when Ann and I walked into the hotel and then the restaurant. EVERYONE, and I mean EVERYONE, stared at us. Like we had elephants growing out the tops of our heads. Or worse, poisonous fungus the leapt like fire to every passerby.
It was the most uncomfortable feeling. No one smiled. Not the waitress, not the desk clerk, not the little kids piled high at the dessert table, not even the people we made smiled at in an attempt to soothe the savages. (One word about the dessert bar: EVERYTHING was "creamed"...Boston Cream Pie, Banana Cream Pie, Chocolate Cream Pie, Coconut Cream Pie...you get the drift...)
But there was no soothing the beasts. Daggers. Bullets. Whips. Chainsaws. Knives. All optically thrown at us...two women "alone"...two women travelling together...two women in shorts and t-shirts...two women with muscles.
We sought refuge in our hotel room where we talked about the feeling of hatred permeating the state.
"Did I forget to turn off my "lesbian" neon sign on my back?" I asked Ann.
"No, but the sign now reads 'Kill me, I'm queer'" Ann retorted.
The next day, we left early and drove fast, not even stopping to see the Black Hills, which I know are beautiful, but I wasn't going to risk my life for nature.
By the time we reached Minnesota, we were dying for a friendly face and an espresso stand (which are a dime a dozen in the Pacific Northwest).
Thankfully, we found a nice little coffee shop on the outskirts of Minnesota that sold fresh blueberry cobbler and a mean tasting latte. More importantly, the young girl who served us looked like a hippie reincarnated as she listened to Dave Matthews on her stereo, her caucasian dreds unwashed and beautiful.
Answer to #3: I have no answer to #3 except to say WHERE THE HELL ARE THE LEFTIST RADICALS and why aren't they screaming in unison?
I am thankful I do not live in South Dakota. I am sorry for anyone who does. I am particularly sorry for the women of South Dakota who wish to CHOOSE something different for their bodies than what the State has mandated. I feel sorry for the queers in South Dakota, unless of course they are Republican and then I have to ask, "Why? How? Oxymoron?"
I know I will most likely never travel through South Dakota again...I'll venture North to the more "liberal" North Dakota for my travels East or miss that whole middle section and travel south through...oh wait, Wyoming and Utah ain't much better...prettier, but not much better.
Perhaps I'll take a plane next time.
I wonder if there is some competition I've missed out on...which red state can be the reddest? My vote goes to South Dakota!
4 comments:
Part of your story reminds me of a time back around 1968 - 1969, when Kay and I drove over to my folks home near Othello, WA. I was well into my long hair and beard period. We stopped in Ellensburg and went into a cafe I'd frequented occasionally most of my life. Wowza! Instant hostility from every eye in the place. Spooky feeling. And frightening.
#2 reminds me of that Ani Defranco song... can't remember the lyrics, just the general feeling of being scrutinized in a bad way.
Othello is a lovely name for a town, don't you think?
Little Plastic Castle...Ani's song is what we played LOUDLY as we drove across South Dakota!
"the sight of your sleepy smile eclipsed all the other people as they paused to sneer at the two girls from out of town"
"Be careful getting coffee I think these people here want to shoot us
...or maybe there's some kind of competition here to see who can be the rudest..."
My favorite line:
"They say goldfish have no memory, I guess their lives are much like mine...and the little plastic castle is a surprise every time..."
Can't remember all the lyrics now, but yes, that is the song we sang on a daily basis through hate-land.
I can relate!
A few years ago my younger sister and I drove from Utah to Colorado.
One of our few stops along the way was at a huge Wyoming truck stop for lunch. We were so happy - thrilled to be on vacation together after being apart for 2 years - and we kept hugging and touching each other as we walked into the place. Though it was at least 90 in the shade, the air inside felt totally frosty - and our service was glacial. By the time we finished eating, we were so uncomfortable we were scared to even head toward the bathrooms. When we were going out to the car, a pickup drove past us and a guy hollered something that I couldn't decipher - I just knew it sounded threatening. We drove about 95 for many miles, all the while saying,
"what was up with THAT place?"
Finally it dawned on us: 2 women, very short hair, hugging in public...
Weirdly, I had exactly the same reception in Wyoming years earlier when I was a hippie in an overall dress with my long-haired husband in tow.
If you're lookin' for red - I vote Wyoming.
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