Andrew Sullivan: Here Comes the Bride, er’ the Groom. Whatever.

Soon-to-be Husband Actor Aaron Tone: Acting Asleep

Andrew Sullivan and Aaron Tone

Another gay marriage blob from Andrew Sullivan in The Atlantic on Friday, this time about his own:

“Off to the Chapel [tomorrow, August the 27th]. Well, a garden, actually, but the same idea. I’ll be back after Labor Day, and a brief honeymoon…. In the meantime, wish me luck. I’ll see you on the other side of matrimony…. ‘

And a few days ago, in The London Times, a somewhat jittery Andrew Sullivan wrote:

“So this is what it feels like? In a week’s time I’ll be walking down the aisle with my soon-to-be husband. Our families are both coming for the big day. We’re getting hitched in Massachusetts, where I’ve lived every summer for the past decade or so, and which is the only state in America where civil marriage is legal for everyone.

Every now and again I have to pinch myself. This is real? For me? It is hardly possible that it could be real for anyone. But me? After so long?

A brief personal history: in 1989, as a jejune junior editor at The New Republic, I got involved in an editorial argument about proposed domestic or civil partnerships for gay couples. The idea had emerged in the 1980s in several cities, partly because of the trauma of couples torn asunder by hostile relatives in the Aids crisis.

Some social conservatives were understandably worried that by setting up an institution like “domestic partnership”, we were creating “marriage-lite”, an institution that would spread to heterosexual couples and weaken the responsibilities and prestige of marriage itself.

As a gay conservative I found both arguments compelling. I saw the pressing need to give gay couples legal protection, but I could also see the danger that an easy-come-easy-go pseudo-marriage could pose for society as a whole.

The solution, however, seemed blindingly obvious to me.

“Well, why not let gays get married as well?” I asked. “Isn’t that the true conservative position?”

My liberal bosses loved the idea of irritating conservatives with a conservative argument. So I obliged. The cover illustration was the first time that a leading magazine had put two guys on a wedding cake on the cover.

The piece created a mini-sensation. I enjoyed the buzz, but the more I thought about it the more convinced I became that this was not just a necessary change, but also a long overdue one. With straight marriage no longer legally linked to children, and with gays desperately needing integration into their own families and society, it seemed like a no-brainer to me.

It was a philosophical decision for me, not a personal one. I was in my twenties and had no intention myself of getting married. In fact, I was a pretty swinging bachelor. But it was the principle that mattered.

Almost two decades later, after years of intense political debate, after years of personal activism, court cases, congressional testimony, threatened constitutional amendments, civil disobedience and a global revolution in marriage rights, the political has now become personal for me. It’s a week away. And I officially have the jitters.

We decided on the most minimalist wedding possible – basically close family only. (We’ll have a bigger party for friends later.) We’re getting married in the same place – a beach house – where we are having the tiny reception. It’s a block down the beach from where we live.

We have the licence, the judge, the clothes, the menu, the photographer (although he hasn’t been in touch lately – gulp), and the rings. I’ve written out the civil liturgy. We’ve settled on the vows. I should relax now, right?

The other night it hit me for the first time that this is really about to happen. I guess I had just put it out of my head until it was only a matter of a week or so away. My fiance, Aaron, and I have lived together for three years. I have no qualms about our actual relationship. For me, this is for life.

However, standing up in front of my family and my spouse’s and saying the vows out loud has me in a state of butterflies. I can go on television and barely break a sweat, but I’m terrified of performing in front of my own family.

I’m scared that I’ll lose it. I bawled through the last same-sex wedding I went to. When I was diagnosed with HIV 14 years ago, I assumed that this day would never come. And now that it has, the emotional impact is a little hard to measure.

You fight for something, never expecting it to happen, let alone to you, and then it does and it can overwhelm. Taking yes for an answer can be harder than no.

Maybe it’s a function of having overthought this issue for so long; maybe it’s just handling a big family occasion of any sort (Christmas is bad enough). Maybe it’s a lifetime in which my actual relationships have always been private, or so targeted by political enemies that I’ve become very defensive.

Maybe I’m scared that two decades of passionate advocacy in theory is easier than a simple act in practice. But whatever the reason, going public with my husband – even in front of our supportive families – is suddenly much tougher than I expected. My throat is a little dry. My stomach is a little unsettled.

My sister e-mailed support: “Don’t worry, it is natural to stress, I practically had a baby the day before mine! 75 to the church, another 75 in the evening, the food, the flowers, the photos, all those people watching me!

“On the day it just felt like a dream, I felt like I was letting out a huge breath all day, like that waiting to exhale, I exhaled all day and it was wonderful.”

Our wedding is much smaller. My old friend and marriage advocate Evan Wolfson reassured me as well: “You’re supposed to be in a zombie state till the beauty of it breaks through.”

Are zombies nervous? They never seem to be. They just stagger forward. Oh, well. Here goes . . .

I, Andrew, take you, Aaron, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, trusting what I don’t yet know, with respect for your integrity, and faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part, I accept you as my husband and pledge my love to you.

So revolutionary for some; so simple for me. For the first time in my adult life I will have a home.

And reported even earlier in the Washington Post:

Getting hitched: Conservative pundit Andrew Sullivan and his partner of three years, artist-actor Aaron Tone. The New York Observer set off a blogger guessing game yesterday when it reported that Sullivan is making it legal with an actor appearing in Studio Theatre’s production of “The Pillowman,” whom it erroneously ID’d as simply “Eric.”

No big mystery: Sullivan, 43, and Tone, 31, have been domestic partners in D.C. for two years, and will marry in Provincetown, Mass., this August. The couple originally planned to wed last year until a “book crisis” postponed the event. “There’s no way to pull off a book and a wedding at the same time,” Sullivan told us. No word what role their beloved dogs Dusty and Eddy will play in the small ceremony, but they’re “definitely” in the wedding party.

And even more, from The N.Y. Observer:

Andrew, did you see David?” said authoress and blogger den mother Arianna Huffington to writer Andrew Sullivan as Hollywood mogul David Geffen approached. The group had coalesced outside the Hilton banquet hall as they attempted an early exit from the White House Correspondents’ Association Dinner.

Yes! We just had sex!” Mr. Sullivan said. “Safe sex!”

That’s right,” the bald billionaire replied with a laugh. “Standing up, because we can.” Then Mr. Geffen turned more serious. “Now what’s this I hear? You’re getting married?” he inquired.

Yes,” said Mr. Sullivan, the wedding would be in late August. “He’s got hair on his back and everything.” Mr. Geffen nodded sagely. “All the things you like in a man,” he said. “Congratulations.”

Later that night, at the Vanity Fair party held at Christopher Hitchens’ house, The Transom pried loose a few wedding details from Mr. Sullivan’s fiancé, Aaron, an actor (last name withheld at Mr. Sullivan’s request): It’s going to be a small affair, mostly family, to take place in Provincetown, Mass.

We haven’t done much yet to prepare,” said Aaron, who is currently starring in the Studio Theatre production of The Pillowman. “We’ve rented the house where we’re going to have it—that’s about it. It’s on the beach.”

Mr. Sullivan was standing nearby, wearing a tux and his trademark Dr. Martens. Would he be allowed to wear those hogs to the wedding? “Absolutely not,” Aaron said.

No, but we don’t need to talk it over,” Aaron said. “He won’t be wearing those.”

Now, all of this Sullivan-Tone matrimonial bliss must be REALLY, REALLY big news, since Matthew Yglesias at The Atlantic just pointed out that Andrew Sullivan has been named as one of the 50 most influential people in Washington, D. C. by GQ Magazine:

“You may have read on the internet that Andrew Sullivan is the 46th most powerful person in Washington, but as best I can tell you need to get your hands on a copy of the print GQ to find the real news of the list — Ross and I are “up and coming” powerful just like the mayor and Susan Rice.

You might be tempted to look at this list and nitpick. Does it really make sense to say that John Podesta is more powerful than Ben Bernanke? Suppose Podesta wanted to cause a global financial meltdown, or plunge the country into recession . . . what he could do about it? Nothing. But then you realize, no, this list must be one hundred percent accurate since it correctly identifies me as one of the centrally important figures of our time.

David Bradley, owner and Supreme Leader of the Atlantic Media Company is also on the list, but since he doesn’t have a blog it’s difficult for him to brag about it in a somewhat ironic and self-effacing manner. Point being: the Atlantic Media Company and its associated blogs are very, very, very powerful or, in some cases, up and coming as powerful. Be afraid.”

Okay, Andrew Sullivan and other Atlantic Magazine bloggers have become big movers-and-shakers in D.C. I just hope that after tomorrow, we don’t have to continue hearing so much of Sullivan’s “marriage blather.”

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