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Opinion AberRant
 Value Daze!
Remember awhile back I told you about our trouble at work, when THE MAN took away our coffee? We had enjoyed an endless supply of French Roast, decaf, even cocoa, and it was all free! If anything ran low, the Coffee Guy would magically show up and replace it.
Then, one morning, there was a cruel, impersonal note hanging in the kitchen. There was no signature, just an anonymous note that said, “The Department will no longer fund coffee, cocoa, utensils, etc.”
Shock reverberated through the building. It wasn’t as bad as November 3, the day after the last national election, when we were all shell-shocked, dazed, and pondering the decline of reason, the devolution of our species and the existence of a benevolent God. But the Coffee Incident came in second on the personal-impact Richter scale. I acted out my hurt and anger in my usual humor-aggressive manner, by sending out an email that addressed both the situation and the harsh notice:
Sorry about the sign. We meant to say:
Due to funding constraints, we, the administrators of the Department, deeply regret that after a six-month transition period, we will be forced to phase out the provision of coffee and other hot beverages. We value our wonderful employees and are despondent that we cannot continue to supply you with these small comforts.
In order to sustain employees during this difficult time, the Department will have daily support groups at 10 a.m. and 3 p.m. for bereavement counseling, as well as a 12-step caffeine withdrawal group.
Coffee and doughnuts will be provided.
As I write this, a couple of months have passed, and we java junkies have survived. I believe that we have even grown because of this experience. Because people stepped up. One guy bought a very fine new coffee maker. Another brought a coffee grinder. Others brought bags of coffee, even a case of pre-measured coffee packets from Costco, just like the Coffee Guy used to bring. I personally donated about ten thousand coffee filters. The truth is, most workplaces do not provide coffee. It had just been there, free, for so long, that we took it for granted. We didn’t really recognize the value it held for us until the responsibility for providing it became our own.
An interesting thing happened to a larger community in Salt Lake recently. The GAM Foundation has been bringing outstanding jazz performances to town for ten years. This organization was actually just three people who put the whole thing together. (I learned that the name comes from their initials, although it will always read “Gay Asian Male” to me.) Anyway, after years of putting blood, sweat, tears and money into this effort, these three folks were burned out and out of money, so they decided to close down and sent out a press release to that effect. But here is the beautiful part: the community said, “No way!” Those who loved and valued the jazz concerts stepped forward in great numbers and with financial support. Their message was, “Why didn’t you tell us you needed money?”
I know what you’re thinking: “For God sake, Sister Mecham, make your point before snack time!” The lesson, my little Sunbeams, is about valuing. Pride is coming up, and I’d like all of you to put on your drinking caps—er, thinking caps—and consider what we value as we think about the Big Change for this year’s Pride celebration. The GLBT Community Center is organizing Pride, as it has done for the last few years. The Center made the decision that in order to even have a Pride celebration, they would need to charge a nominal gate fee. Many members of the community have responded by saying, “It’s about time!” Others have their Baskit Action Mesh Jocks all in a tiny, tasteful-yet-uncomfortable bunch. [Publisher’s note: Laurie —Please don’t use the words ‘jock’ and ‘tiny’ in the same sentence in a gay paper.] Yes, Pride has always been free, in Salt Lake, anyway. That doesn’t mean that this huge festival, second in size only to the Utah Arts Festival—for which we fork over seven bucks a day just to step inside the gates—always pays for itself.
But Pride is here and it’s going to happen! It’s our turn again to celebrate ourselves. It’s time to be highly visible, to gather in huge numbers, to dance, to parade, to be sexy and frumpy and campy and goofy and all the things that we are. The entry fee, which could otherwise go for a single microbrew or a grande latte, will ensure that The Center can maintain their own personnel and budget for—get this—the activities and programs of The Center. Pride will pay for itself this year. What a concept!
The question is: Do we value Pride? Are we going to be spoiled and whiny and obnoxious because we think that entry to Pride should be free because “that’s the way it’s always been?” Well, guess what, my little CTRs, part of the reason we have Pride in the first place is because we aren’t real happy about keeping things the way they’ve always been. I’m talking closets, gay-bashing, discrimination in housing and jobs and other civil rights like, oh, say marriage, for example.
So if you’ve been bitching, get over it. Volunteer if you can. Panhandle if you truly don’t have five bucks. The Center is donating tickets to the Utah AIDS Foundation. If you’re worried that someone will be left out, buy them a damn ticket. In closing, dear Merrie Misses and Valiants, when you say your prayers tonight, be sure to thank God for three of her many gifts: coffee, jazz, and Pride.
Sister Mecham was released from her calling due to rumors regarding the Word O’ Wisdom.
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