Let me get this straight: Marriage is supposed to be between two people who get along, have similar interests, enjoy similar activities, and generally live life in a compatible way. If this is true, why does anyone rail against same sex marriage?

Don’t get me wrong–Mrs. Writers’-Corner and I live in the greatest of harmony. The problem is that her harmonies come from the likes of George Jones and Faith Hill and my harmonies come from Steppenwolf and Janis Joplin. We each have nearly 3,000 songs on our respective I-Pods, but the Venn diagram overlap is about seven titles. She has one Beatles song and one Stones tune–two total! My number hovers around 400.

If I were married to another man the beer would have a prominent place in the refrigerator, not exiled to the tiny, lukewarm device in the garage. I’m a fairly tidy person. I’m good at picking up after myself, except for shoes–they tend to be left wherever my feet become unshod. Hers? Always in the closet keeping company with the other 75 pairs–strength in sheer numbers.

She changed her hairstyle not long ago. It didn’t work out too well–for me. She looks great but I mistakenly thought she said she was growing it into a “hedge” when she actually said “wedge.” My mistake. I should have asked. I should have known no woman wants a hedge for a hairdo, but, well–if you looked sideways, just right, with the light behind her after she came in out of the afternoon wind–just maybe a tad like a hedge… I’ve had the same haircut for 45 years. Longer or shorter at times and it is a different color than it was in 1967 but not because I’ve dyed it.

I mentioned that she looks great and that isn’t just her hair. This woman eats chocolate doughnuts for breakfast and looks like she is 26 years old. I eat gruel laced with blueberries for breakfast and celery for lunch and my weight is equal to a small car. If that fact isn’t enough to drive a wedge (wooden divider, not a hairstyle) between a couple trying to cohabitate, I don’t know what will.

There are no décor restrictions on my recliner other than it needs to be in the middle of the room in front of the television. If it gets a bit dingy, or the color no longer coordinates with the other pieces in the room (read “falling apart”)–not to worry. But, she does.

We get along fine, but wouldn’t she be happier living with a woman who wants her favorite chair to go well with and not clutter the ambiance?

But, you may ask, what about that other (nudge, nudge–wink, wink) part of marriage? You know, the part about sharing sleeping quarters. Doesn’t that trump all else?

Yes it does. I’ve had fun with the front end of this column, but marriage isn’t all about seeing eye-to-eye on everything. It is about love and that is the only deciding factor.

We gave up arranged marriages long ago, so the only people who have any business in making the decision to marry are the two wrestling with all the variables and uncertainties of embarking on a life union. No outside suggestions are necessary.

It is hard enough finding someone to truly love without outside restrictions on who that may be. Many have false starts and try again–many don’t ever manage to find their soul mate. So, when this wonderful, often serendipitous, sometimes hard won event happens, go for it. It is none of our business if that couple is made up of the same or different anything.

Gender, race, religion, nationality, political bent, or hat size–none of it makes a whit of difference. Any couple who have braved the first date, had the talk about being exclusive, taken the relationship to the next (nudge-wink) level, and finally signed on the dotted line, deserve not only a medal, each deserve all the rights and benefits held by any other couple–every single one.

Let’s demand this last bastion of civil rights discrimination be sent packing. Because, to quote the lyrics from one of the songs on my I-Pod but not on Mrs. Writers’-Corner’s, “All you need is love.”