My Great, Gay Friend Butch
I'm straight man enough to admit it: I was once a bit homophobic.
And, if not being convinced that gay marriage is the best thing for our fair nation, well, in some people's eyes, I probably still am.
I mean, I don't think that's the case. For one, I believe that gays and lesbians should be allowed to reap the same benefits that male brides and female grooms do. All of the same rights. Yet -- for two -- I just don't think they should call it, y'know, marriage; frankly, it's all about the semantics to me. But to each their own, right? We're all God's children.
I don't know why I mention all this other than the fact that gays are on my mind, on accounta A.D.'s piece in today's Inquirer about Butch Cordora, a guy I'm proud to call a friend. Sure, it started as me covering the filming of one episode at a studio in Andorra (can't find the link for the 2002 story) and his 100th episode. But I could never wholly consider Butch just a source or a story subject, even though he called early and often when he thought he had a great story for me to tell. Like the naked calendar he produced, which I passed on. Nope, any dude who does a local-cable talk-show from the comfort of a bed was bound to be a friend from Day One. Hell, I even went to Woody's for the 100th celebration party. (I know what you're thinking, but I brought my wife, which was fine by Butch, who once called me "the straightest man I've ever met," which was fine by me.)
All joking aside, Butch was among the first visitors I remember heading over to Magee after the hit-and-run, and I could tell he was pretty freaked out by the whole mess, which is unlike him. But it was a freaky scene, and all the joking in the world wasn't gonna get me walking any sooner.
Societal labels aside, one word that describes Butch would be "kind, decent human being." OK, that's four words. I just couldn't describe him in one. Because the dude's a trip.
So, congrats on all your successes, Butch. Even though I couldn't make it to the party the other night, I'm sure it was raucous enough without me.