A flautist and violinist played Baroque duets (“Music courtesy of the Brookline Music School”) in the front corner of the lobby of the Brookline Town Hall. “Let me get rid of that for you,” said a woman wearing an orange GLAD t-shirt, taking an orange rind from the tiny hand of a four year old on the shoulder of one of his fathers. GLAD was there to hand out roses, serve pastries, and applaud. There were no crowds of anonymous well-wishers, unlike last night’s festival in Cambridge, just clusters of couples with their family and best friends.

Terry, the mother of one of my son’s best friends, was there with a corsage pinned to her. She was invited by the parents of a boy a year ahead of ours in our local school. They were chatting with a small group of friends and relatives, waiting for the clerk to call their number. The clerk, a man in his 70s, stood outside the inner office, called out the couples’ numbers, and warmly congratulated each couple on the way out. By 9:30 this morning, fifty couples in this town of 50,000 had been granted marriage licenses.

When I left, I saw a media person videotaping a meter maid ticketing a motorcycle with a sidecar — B-roll for the “life goes on” message the news will use to frame today’s events. Yes, of course life goes on. But so far in Brookline, a hundred neighbors have had their love a acknowledged in a way that they probably thought would never happen in their lifetimes. So, life goes on, but as of May 17, 2004 in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, life is better for all of us.

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