I live in a really lovely little town. It was founded in the early twentieth century for the citrus trade by folks who recreated their midwestern homes, building charming little bungalows with front porches and river rock foundations. They planted lots of trees. They left lots of room for parks.

And they made way for lots of hate.

I know everyone doesn't think like I do, doesn't share my belief in freedom for women, in equality for homosexuals, in peace not war. Still, I have to admit I have been shocked by the signs that have popped up in my neighborhood advocating a ban on gay marriage and advocating the election of conservative John McCain and his anti-female female running mate. Their houses look so cute. How can the ideas propounded therein be so ugly?

I already knew weird religious people lived on my street because every single morning I pass the signs in their window that call me a murderer for having elected to exercise my right to safe and legal abortion. Sometimes I feel hurt, sometimes I feel angry, sometimes I feel compassion, sometimes I feel nothing. But always I wonder why they think they know better than I do about what I am capable of handling, and I also wonder why their religion promotes self-righteousness instead of love of neighbor.

Still as I have grown used to this omnipresent scold, I deluded myself into thinking that they were some kind of exception, that all the other pretty bungalows were filled with people who understand that the fundamental freedoms we enjoy in this country are indeed what makes America great and that trying to erode them would be tantamount to trying to destroy our very nation.

Well I was wrong and they are trying.

So what can I do besides voting my conscience? It occurred to me that I could take pictures of these signs with me in the photo and blog about the consternation I feel every time I pass a house filled with people who want to take away my self-determination and that of my gay friends. And so I am.

The other Dr Blaine agreed to act as photog for the mission, so we set out on this picture-perfect day through our beautiful neighborhood filled with flowers and trees and birds and.... anti-woman, anti-peace and anti-gay messages. First stop I knew would be that house on the corner, the one I pass every single day with the huge message ABORTION IS HOMICIDE. I often feel impotent looking at the sign, as I know I have no intention of going to them and saying the various things I think of saying, some asking for understanding, some sarcastic, some flat-out mean.

Finally today I got to "do" something about it. I got to get my picture taken in front of their house in my "this is what a feminist looks like" tee-shirt. And I got to hold up a sign that says "thanks for hating." It felt real good.

We moved on to the Yes on 8 house that I see when I come home from Target. It has little stick figures of a happy family, clearly one that doesn't include abortion-loving feminists or their fag friends. I smiled real pretty for this one, holding up my Thanks for Hating sign. Finally I was starting to feel ok about things.

The last stop was a double-winner, both Yes on 8 and McCain/Palin. But this one didn't go as smoothly as had the other two. The minute I stepped onto the lawn (which I knew was trespassing btw), a man shot out of the house and demanded to know what I was doing. I was prepared for this. I smiled sweetly and said "taking a picture of your sign for my blog." By now wife had joined him, holding baby (not aborted and one hopes for her sake not gay). Wife screamed "get off our property." "Of course," I said, complying immediately. Like I said I knew stepping on someone's grass was indefensible, so I hopped to the curb.

I pointed out to my hubby that we could easily still take the picture from the sidewalk. This is where it gets fun. As soon as I said that the man demanded that we leave that spot as well. We nicely said that he doesn't own the sidewalk. Well, that was news to this anti-gay marriage pro-republican La Verne homeowner! "Yes I do," he screamed. "You can't just go around taking pictures of anything!" And the wife added "you are the ones who are hating!" (Apparently she had noticed my sign. Sheepish smile....)

Anyway by now we had our photo and were headed to the car, but we also kept calmly repeating "it's still a free country." The irony is not lost on me, and I hope it's not lost on you either. These people want to determine who can marry, who can abort, and who we should kill overseas. So why should they stop there? They also want to prevent people standing on public property from taking pictures of signs posted in the public sphere.

Maybe they can get that measure on the ballot as well.