The royal treatment

I said I wasn't going to do it, but I did it anyway. I watched the royal wedding of Harry and Meghan. And my macho self-esteem isn't afraid to admit it: I was completely swept away.

I laughed, I cried, I wanted that 1950 Rolls Royce Phantom IV.

I don't think I realized until I was viewing the ceremony how desperately I needed to see something positive and affirming, something that felt like a beginning and not the end. It was a long overdue (since January 20, 2017) counterpoint to the scandals, lies, shootings and injustices we're all inundated with on a daily basis.

There was something reassuring about British traditions that aren't being abandoned for their own sake, or to spite someone out of baseless prejudices. Traditions that've endured, despite the test of time, the horrors of war and the microscope of the occasional royal scandal.

The fact it was a biracial wedding, with a black, London-based gospel choir singing Stand By Me, and a black, Chicago bishop—Michael Curry—whose fiery and passionate sermon about the redemptive power of love made it one for the history books. Set against the stuffy yet tolerant British audience, reminded that diversity is something joyous to be embraced. Not for its own sake, but for the results it elicits.

The decency and rightness of it all. A country united and happy for them. Leadership that inspires love and admiration, even when there's strong political disagreement. A stark contrast to the hatred and divisiveness being peddled as the new normal here.

If you know anything about me, and really, you should know something about me by now, you know I usually think of weddings as a waste of a perfectly good Saturday.

But it sure was nice to feel that good and hopeful, at least for one day.

We'll have a gay old time

You may have seen this video making the rounds today. It's an audio track of Pastor Sean Harris of Berean Baptist Church in Fayetteville, North Carolina telling his congregation to punch their children and break their bones if they exhibit any sign of behavior not gender specific.

I couldn't make that up.

So, a few things. Not that it makes him any less dangerous, but in no way do I believe this represents a majority opinion of the country's, or even the south's for that matter, pastors. Not even close.

He's an anomaly, like a two-headed snake. Or a viable Republican presidential candidate.

Next is that as scary as this guy is, even scarier are the homophobes - and really, what other name is there for them - in his church that are "amen-ing" every hateful thing he's saying.

But we know how this ends, right? Of course we do.

At some point in the very near future, someone will come out (see what I did there?) with pictures of the good pastor on his knees in an airport men's room, or dressed in assless leather chaps dancing to Donna Summer under the mirrored ball in a North Carolina gay bar.

Then that'll be that. His fifteen minutes will be up and hopefully he'll blow his brains (or whatever is in his head) out.

There's only one thing any pastor should be preaching to parents about their children.

To unconditionally love and accept them for who they are.