I hate thinking about money. I hate dealing with money. I hate hearing about money. Not long ago, at a local watering hole, I approached a handsome new face standing awkwardly alone. Like the gay Wilmington welcome wagon, I walked over to him and said hello. During the usual introduction fare, he mentioned that he had moved to a very nice area of town—and he was obviously proud of it. He then talked a little about how he makes a lot of money, and how he doesn’t think he’ll keep his house for long. Although the area is very nice, he pointed out, "I see a lot of bums in the area." Perhaps I’m caught up in the 90s swirl of political correctness, but his labeling of homeless people as "bums," combined with the mention of his monetary wealth in the first few seconds of our conversation, turned my stomach and sent me back to the dance floor.

This guy isn’t the only American, gay or straight, hung up on that powerful green paper that keeps most of the world spinning around at a dizzying pace. Consider these startling facts from the most recent issue of the independent news magazine Mother Jones:

On average, American CEOs make $475 for every dollar earned by their average worker. In the United Kingdom—with the second-highest paid CEOs in the world—CEOs make only $22 for every dollar earned by their average worker.

If the $5.15 hourly minimum wage had risen at the same rate as CEO compensation since 1990, it would now stand at $23.03.

Adjusted for inflation, the federal minimum wage has fallen 42% since its peak in 1968.

Public companies spend 10% of their earnings compensating their top five executives.

In 2005, there were 9 million American millionaires, a 62% increase since 2002. Yet, in 2005, 25.7 million Americans received food stamps, a 49% increase since 2000.

There’s no doubt about it—the rich continue to grow richer, and the poor continue to grow poorer. Billie Holiday had it right—"God bless the child that’s got his own." American CEOs and millionaires have their own, and they’re NOT giving it up for anyone or anything.

In Europe, the government limits the compensation of CEOs and other top corporate earners.

Were anyone to propose this "radical" notion in America, some of our favorite celebrities would have thousands of frenzied assistants working round the clock to halt such legislation. What would Oprah do if she couldn’t drop a grand on a handbag at Hermes? Donald Trump charges over a million dollars per hour for speaking engagements. How dare anyone suggest that his savvy business advice is not worth over $16,000 per minute, over $277 per second? Even most average Americans would balk at the notion that we should limit how much money one can earn.

The American dream is to explore and expand. Joe Public does not want his income limited when he finally scales the corporate ladder of success and excess. We hold steadfastly, if subconsciously, to the dream that one day we’ll make millions and hob-knob with the likes of Miss Winfrey and Mr. Trump, despite the fact that only a few of us will see a million dollars in our entire lifetimes.

The GLBT community used to stand on the perimeter of society, offering us a unique and vital vantage point, enabling us to critique power, greed, and corruption. These days—myself included—we’re much more a part of the mainstream mix. Companies have tapped into our great buying power and they’re offering us insurance for our "domestic partners" in exchange for our formerly powerful isolation.

Corporations who wouldn’t touch us a decade or two ago are reaching out to the GLBT community like people in hell reaching out for ice water. In the most recent issue of "Out" magazine, there are ads for Cadillac, American Express, Diet Pepsi, Orbitz, Avis, Travelocity, Kohler, Evian, and even a popular pet flea and tick repellant. All these ads are sandwiched between layers of fashion spreads and more hard-bodied, chiseled-jaw, physically perfect men than you can shake a stick at. Sometimes, I can’t help but think that the GLBT community has become every bit as glossy and airbrushed as these magazine ads. Sometimes, I think we’ve lost our edge. Sometimes, I think we’ve lost our collective soul.

Am I willing to trade my good salary, my shiny silver SUV, and my luxury apartment to get out on the streets like the girls from Stonewall? That’s hard to say. If an anti-gay Gestapo came pounding on our doors tomorrow, hauling us off to prisons or worse places, I still believe that we’d be out in the streets hurling broken beer bottles and stilettos at their heads, marching on our nation’s capitol, fighting the good fight. When our Mafia-owned bars were being raided, we fought back. When AIDS blindsided our community and the government turned a blind eye, we lashed out. The GLBT community still has its share of activists and loud mouths, but I think we need more. In her wonderful collection of essays, "I Have Chosen to Stay and Fight," Margaret Cho declares that we need a "Martin Luther Queen" to lead us to the next level of freedom and equality. It saddens me sometimes to think that with our big, disposable incomes, and our "just enough equality" mindsets, most of us probably don’t think we need one.

"Mama may have. Papa may have. But God bless the child that’s got his own, that’s got his own. He just worry ‘bout nothin’, ‘cause he got his own."