We’re here! We’re queer! Um, you’re already used to it!
This weekend was the local iteration of Pride. Owing to some other commitments, I didn’t spend quite as much time there this year as I have in the past. This may splain why I didn’t enjoy myself quite as much this year; the general tone of militancy also tended to suppress an otherwise joyous occasion. I will splain.
For those of you who have never been to a Pride, or even for many who have been to one — at its core, Pride is a big party. All that pushing for gay rights and remembering Stonewall and giving hope to the gay kids etc. are nice and everything, but they’re tangential to the celebratory aspect. Some may try to convince you that Pride is about celebrating their sexuality, but they’re misguided; it isn’t necessarily sex that we celebrate, but rather the fact that we are being true to ourselves, whatever that may encompass.
OK. Preachy part’s done. Let’s move on.
Saturday I just kinda mingled. Not much to comment on there.
Sunday… I was supposed to meet up with R* and a few of his friends (the J*s, S*, and K*) to watch the parade and such. Unfortunately, those plans fell through: S* and K* called me not long after the parade started, while it was rather loud near me, so we couldn’t quite meet up during; R* called about 5 minutes after S*/K* to tell me that he was just leaving Rolla (where he had been best man a wedding); and the J*s’ young son was apparently being uncooperative. Alas, I had to watch the parade all alone, or at least as alone as one can be when surrounded by a couple thousand people.
Flag Boy (you remember him from last year) was in the parade, doing color guard for the gay marching band again, and looking rather cute in his sailor hat. I’m going to have to give him a call.
Best float: a local furry group’s rendition of “Crouching Tiger Hidden Drag Queen”, with a tiger pulling a rickshaw containing a drag queen; the drag queen was fab, of course, but was being coy behind a Chinese fan.
Best drag queen: the one marching behind the band in 5″ stiletto heels, with the American-flag motif and flawless makeup. She kept the heels on the whole day. (If memory serves, last year she was in front of the band in a sassy red sequinned gown carrying a big rainbow flag.)
Hottest guy in the parade: Jägermeister has a brilliant marketing campaign going; they always get the hottest people to push their product. At last year’s parade they had a gaggle of muscleboys, but this year’s two were even hotter. The one on the east side of Grand was especially scrumptious… I’m surprised he didn’t get tackled and devoured. (Second place was the boy wearing a donkey’s head on one of the local Democratic ward organizations’ float.)
Best dog: the bull mastiff right in front of me. It spent much of the parade reclining across half the sidewalk; small children would walk up to pet the “puppy”, and would have to reach up to rub the top of its head. (As each kid would approach this dog, their parents would inevitably blanch and say “Uh, honey, that’s an awfully big dog…”.) It was a gentle giant — very friendly towards everyone — but it sure cleared out a swath when it shook off a bit of slobber.
Best musical moment: the gay marching band was playing “Here Comes the King” as they passed me, and all the drunks cheered. It was about 1 pm, and there were a lot of drunks by then. Most of them had Pestalozzi Street’s Finest in hand while cheering. Damn, A-B has a grip on this town… also, I find it rather amusing that there are such things as gay marching bands.
Best political candidate: Russ Carnahan, running for Dick Gephardt’s seat (MO-3) in the US House of Representatives. Not my favorite candidate in that race (that’d be Jeff Smith) but Russ was out among the crowd workin’ it.
(It’s late, and I have an early morning – will comment on the festival proper later.)
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