Bachelors by law

By CLAIRE TREVETT

Neither has formally gone down on one knee yet, but the happy couple are already knuckling out the most critical issues of their potential civil union.

"What would we do about the bachelor party?" says Alan."Would we have a combined one? I'd probably want to have my own one."

Welcome to the house of Dean Knight, lawyer and rugby player, and Alan Wendt, Samoan, sign-language interpreter and pianist.

Knight, 31, and Wendt, 26, are one of the "longest-serving couples" of their friends and live together in a Ponsonby home with a plaque announcing it once belonged to Michael Joseph Savage.

They are more proud of the fact that Bryan Williams, the former All Black, grew up in the house. They like Williams because he was a supporter of the Ponsonby Heroes, the gay rugby team Knight captains and last weekend led to glory in the first gay transtasman challenge against the Brisbane Hustlers.

They have been together for seven years, after friends introduced them at a club in Wellington.

"Seven years and one month," says Dean. "We got together the night Princess Diana died."

They throw good parties, but have lived together long enough to bounce along on that comfortable slick of domestic routine. So comfortable, they say their friends probably see them as "old nanas".

"Probably just because we've been a couple so long," Alan says.

"Sitting on the deck, drinking tea," says Dean.

"And you preserving lemons and stuff," Alan adds. "He cooks and I play the piano. It's a great division of responsibilities."

But there is no real anniversary to celebrate, something they hope will change if the Civil Union Bill becomes law.

The last time they had a party to celebrate being together was the passing of the Property Relationships Bill.

"We had a 50/50 party because we got half of each other's debts. But it's hard to get excited by that, really. A 50/50 party doesn't have the same ring as an engagement party."

So now they are bickering over how they might mark a civil union, should the bill become law.

Being a lawyer, Dean first mentions the bestowal of rights he believes married people take for granted.

"But it is hard to come away from it being an expression of love and commitment and a recognition of our interdependency. Our lives are intertwined now and we are just asking the law to reflect that. We are Dean and Alan together," says Dean.

"I think you will find we are Alan and Dean together," retorts Alan.

"I want the big family thing, the ceremonial process. A lot of people have done those 'commitment ceremonies' and good on them, but I want to sit at the register and sign it."

For years they have gone to their own friend's weddings, done the done thing, bought the presents and celebrated in grand style. Now it is time to call in the returns.

"Two friends of ours got married and had a really nice wedding on the beach. And you kind of stand there and think "this is wonderful, but when and where is mine'?" says Alan.

"We love that and we celebrate their weddings, but it does grate when you think 'we are not that much different'," says Dean.

Presents would be welcome but there will not be rings, nor the throwing of the bouquet, though all those are ripe fodder for jokes.

At the piano, Alan starts belting out a song.

"And I'm not going down the aisle to that one," Dean says.

Both are from religious backgrounds - Knight from a rural farming family in Manawatu, Wendt a New Zealand-born Samoan. But they are happy with a civil union rather than gay marriage.

"In one sense, civil unions make more sense. To me, marriage has religious and societal connotations which I'm not sure if it's best for the state to be involved in substantially," says Dean.

They are not planning a kneejerk celebration of the bill's passing, simply to make a political statement.

"It's still a personal thing about making sure the time is right for us. But it would be nice to have a real anniversary to celebrate, rather than just the night we got together," Dean says.

They said most their friends and family have backed civil unions.

"Your mother goes into bat for civil unions," Dean says to Alan.

"No, she goes into bat for us. Which is not necessarily an easy thing to do. Her eldest son is gay and being Samoan she is going against the tide. The more conservative elements of the Samoan community would be unsupportive of us.

"I heard a Samoan priest on television use word like 'unnatural and abhorrent.' People take it and manipulate it and distort it and call it abhorrent."

Now they think their family and friends would be relieved and pleased to see the old nanas finally tie the knot.

"It would shut us up," says Dean.