Epic Politics Blog: Cathy and I are breaking up
Of course I mean Dan Cathy. He is the president of Chick-Fil-A. I love the chicken sandwich at Chick-Fil-A. I love the sweet tea at Chick-Fil-A. I love the waffle fries at Chick-Fil-A. So this breakup comes with a terrible personal toll.
My first Chick-Fil-A experience was at the Fashion Square mall in Charlottesville, Va. It was followed by our second date the very next day. For the next few years we dated seriously. Geography forced me to be distantly in love for many years. I’d stop in whenever we were in the same city. Then finally Chick-Fil-A moved to Los Angeles. I was there early and have visited often. Now I am done.
For years I have chosen to look the other way at the fact that the Cathy family pushed their religion onto their customers in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. There were references to scripture hidden on cups and napkins (similar to In N Out), but I let that slide. The entire chain closes on Sunday to facilitate prayer by its employees, and presumably its customers, though this customer was only praying that they would start opening on Sundays. S. Truett Cathy, the founder of the chain, and a philanthropic man, has given millions of dollars to charitable foundations, mostly to help children. His WinShape Foundation has provided scholarships and ways out for many kids. However, with the same attempt at subtlety as his printed biblical references represent, WinShape has also contributed quite a bit of money to anti-gay causes. His son Dan now proudly defends the family stance against gay marriage as well as the monies they give to political candidates who also are against it. It is an ignorant and hateful stance, and that is why I am breaking up with Cathy.
Any citizen of 2012 knows, or works with, or loves someone who is gay. If any business owner spat in the face of any of my gay friends each time they walked in the door of that business, I would never walk into that business myself. Dan Cathy is spitting in the faces of people I know, people you know and — sorry to break it to you, Dan — people he knows.
The cows in the advertisements at Chick-Fil-A for so long have said. “Eat More Chikin.” Not me. Sorry to have to end it this way, Cathy. We will always have our memories, but it’s 2012 and you never really grew up. Now I know how the chickens must feel about you.
Goodbye.
