It’s Pride Weekend here. Which means rainbow everything and the perpetual thump-thump-thump of happy gays shaking what their mamas and papas (or two mamas or two papas) gave them. This year, for only the second time since I started going to Pride here, I plan to skip it altogether. (The first time was for a wedding, sheesh, straight people, plan better.) Don’t worry, I am still plenty proud. I wave the rainbow flag in my heart every single day – and I plan to give it an extra sassy internal wave this weekend. I will miss that feeling of awe I get when I look out to a sea of humanity all there to celebrate just being yourself. It makes me smile, every. single. time. But this year in particular I feel like keeping my festivities more subdued. i.e. I am too old to look for private places to pee in public like in a raised planter or behind a parked car, not that I’ve ever done that – allegedly. Also, today marks the tenth anniversary of my father’s death. When you get to big round numbers like that (and daunting words like “decade”), you tend to reflect. I’ll be headed to the coast instead, to stare at the horizon and be rocked by another the rhythm. That of the sea making it’s perpetual introduction with the land. Have a happy and safe Pride Weekend, all.
p.s. For all of you still planning to party party party, please let these little guys get you in the mood. Turn down for PRRRRRR-IDE! Sorry, had to go there. Lesbians, pussies. You understand.