On my way back to Tupelo, my phone rang. I looked at the screen and saw that it was Jasmine, a gay rights activist that I’d met at UU Tupelo, our local Unitarian Universalist congregation.
“Wiley, I need you!” she exclaimed in her breathless, energetic way.
“You know I don’t swing that way,” I said.
“I need you to sing, fool,” she said.
“Again?”
“We’re protesting the American Family Alliance on September first. Can you be there? Bring your guitar? We want you to sing ‘It’s a Good Day to Be Gay.’ Everybody loves that song.”
“I’m flattered, but you know I don’t like to sing in public.”
“Please, darling?”
“Jasmine…”
“Please, sweetie darling honey baby, you hunk of a man, you?”
“When you put it that way…”
“I knew you’d say yes. You’re so easy.”
“You’ve obviously never tried to get
