What was I thinking when I penned last week’s column?
How dare I challenge the notion that a personal choice vote was no one else’s business but the person making that choice? That point – which was the only one I was making last week – was lost in a tsunami of personal insults, name-calling, blatant fact changing and reading comprehension that would embarrass most preps.
Not once have I opened for discussion or comment the issue of same sex marriage in this column. I have mailed my vote in like everyone else. End of story.
Not quite.
I do feel the need to address some of the comments directed to me via this paper’s social media platform.
I was accused of not caring about this issue. Wrong. The issue is life-changing for so many people, and in that context deserves to be discussed in a mature, respectful and compassionate manner. These qualities were sadly lacking in the majority of keyboard respondents. I was called everything from the most vile of swear words, to an idiot, a nobody, a has-been wannabe, a precocious and obnoxious pretender to – my personal favourite – the local preacher of hate.
I was accused of not caring about the people this issue affects. Wrong. I have many friends whose lives will be changed. That’s friends, not gay friends, as I don’t group my friends by sexual preference, gender, hair colour or political persuasion.
I was accused of making the column all about me. Wrong. If that were the case, I would have used the column to push my personal view on the subject. I didn’t and won’t. My point was, and still is, that this is a personal vote, not a show of hands.
I was accused of being precious, and putting myself up as more reasonable than the pure driven snow. Wrong. Like anyone, I don’t like bullying, but I am a big boy and can look after myself.
In comparison to many who responded to my column, and the tone of their responses, I may well be more reasonable than the pure driven snow after all. ■
