The headline this morning: former Rep. Gerry Studds has died. For those of you with short memories, Studds was both the first openly gay congressman and the Democrat who had an affair with an underage Congressional page. Like Foley, he “came out” following the disclosure; unlike Foley, he was not a hypocrite, not part of a party that demonized homosexuality and he did not resign his office — in fact, he was reelected.
What I find so interesting about this sad news is the reporting of it, where the AP matter-of-factly states:
Studds died at Boston Medical Center several days after he collapsed while walking his dog, his husband said. Doctors determined his loss of consciousness was due to a blood clot in his lung, Dean Hara said.
This must be the first time that the mainstream media has used the word “husband” in the context of a same-sex couple, and while it is correct — they married and lived in Massachusetts — the most remarkable thing about the usage of this word is that it is unremarkable.
For a brief moment, as I read the sad news, it felt like a non-discriminatory, non-judgemental world, almost like you’d read about in a sci-fi novel.
