Op-Ed: Don't call me mister, please

Mr. Dennis Rader, Mr. Cary Stayner and Mr. John Couey — do those names sound familiar? They should, because each made national headlines: Rader and Stayner are convicted serial killers and Couey a child molester/murderer. However, also alarming was the word Mister sometimes used by the news media and law enforcement officials when reporting on these hideous crimes. My memory tells me that the word "Mister" was once defined as a term of respect for a man and reserved for those who deserved the distinction. Sadly, I now find it troubling to be given the same title as some monster who enjoyed strangling a mother's son in front of her.

So what's the big fuss — words can never hurt you, right? Wrong. Words are important and they should have meaning; they define us and our culture. The decline in our culture's definitions started in the late Sixties with the "Me Generation." The era of self indulgence, the era of "I'm OK, you're OK," and everyone and everything is OK. Rather than hold human behavior to a high expectation, the standards were lowered so everyone became OK. The result: those at the bottom began the process of redefining our culture and the meaning of our words. Standards of behavior were targeted; bigotry became a synonym for quality words like discerning. Descriptive adjectives that identified the value differences of human behavior were censored, camouflaged or changed. Much of our language, our words, became lies.

Some of these lies have been carried to a laughable extent, Take for example, the August 2008 Appeal-Democrat article about the giant flying turd (their word not mine). It seems an American artist had on display in a Bern, Switzerland, art museum a house-sized helium filled turd. His so-called art display broke away from its moorings in high winds and then proceeded to mow down power lines and generally terrorize this Swiss town. The residents dubbed this flying menace "turdzilla." This story certainly brings about a smile and maybe a laugh, but true artists like Leonardo da Vinci, Fredrick Remington, and Irving Berlin might find it troubling.

On a more serious note, we soon will be given the opportunity to rescue the meaning of a most important word — marriage. The homosexual community, using the court system, has succeeded in defining down this word that has been sacred to so many for so very long. Since they have shown they are good at redefining words, why couldn't they just coin their own? How about "gayriage"?

Perhaps, I am too critical. Maybe the flower children of San Francisco are right, maybe everyone and everything is OK? Could this city, by the bay, that is now represented by the towering and inspiring Golden Gate Bridge, actually point to a better way? I can see their future. The stands at a 49ers football game are full and the crowd is eating hot dogs and drinking beer when suddenly a dark shadow appears overhead. A fan yells, "look, up in the sky, Is it a bird, is it a plane?" Another fan answers, "Nah, that's just our city's symbol, the giant flying Goodyear turd!"

The time is long overdue to start taking back our words and pass Proposition 8 on Nov. 4. Define marriage as only between a man and a woman. Maybe after that culture win we can start working on other words, but in the meantime — please don't call me mister.

Clarence "Buck" Weckman is Yuba County Co-Chair of the Yes on Proposition 8 campaign.