Open and Shut

The tragic irony of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is that it was supposed to be an improvement. After Groovy Bill won the election — we saw him play sax at a Mac Court rally in Eugene, although he failed to demonstrate for the assembled stoners How Not to Inhale — he grandly instructed the Secretary of Defense to prepare for ending gay discrimination in the military.

And then it all blew up in his face.

What followed was not unlike Hillary joking that she was too butch career-minded to bake cookies, then hastily calling a photo op to prove she could tollhouse with the best of them. Rather than stand by principle, Bubba mounted a strategic retreat and not-so-grandly declared that if gays would be so kind to stay in the closet, he promised nobody would throw open any doors.

Fourteen thousand doors pried open later, here we are.

There’s no point rearguing the politics and culture of 1993 — which is now almost a generation ago. But to provide a fix on the times, we were just beyond the “Love See No Color” fad, and Hello, Mr. President! Even Barney Frank had been out barely six years, and Roy Cohn was enjoying “Angels in America” from a box seat in Hell.

We were, of course, deeply disappointed by the turn of events, in that special way only Inspirational Democrats can crush our hopes. And while we’re in no mood to forgive Bubba for the creation and execution of DADT, let us remember, on the day of its repeal, that it wasn’t his first choice. He tried to do the right thing.

And then he learned how to triangulate.