Tales of Slow Brave Athena

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June 19, 2005

Gay day

Gay Day finally came. The sky was teasingly grey but everyone knew it never rained on the Gay Pride March... Fifty thousand homosexuals flaunted it that day, each having gone through their own personal shit and wild struggles to be proud. Even though they waved brilliant banners of soft colors and balloons and danced in the streets to samba music, gays are a very, very tough people... Once a year they got cheered, just for being gay. These few hours of approval brought out the dignity and the beauty in each marching queer.
- Sarah Schulman, Girls, Visions and Everything

Today was the day of the Pride Parade here in Portland. It's huge, the second or third largest parade in Portland, and always a good time. Sweetie and I got breakfast downtown, then staked out a spot with our scooters on the route.

My sweetie got me a set of mardigras beads that had a giant "Ride to Live, Live to Ride" on it. Too goofy and cool! We stood or sat on our scooters, and I knit on my scooter scarf, the silver fuzzy thing.

First up was the anti-homosexual Christians, walking down the middle of the street, shouting provocations at anyone who looked at them. It occurred to me that if pro-peace protesters tried to proceed a pro-war march, that the cops would be out with nightsticks and plastic bullets and ATVs. I've come close to being decked for being a bystander by cops, and I've seen them provoke the crowd. Not pretty.

And then the parade started. Hurrah! Dykes on bikes (including one scooter!), politicians, high-tech employees, people riding in convertibles, drag queens, drag kings, people on quadracycles, choirs, church groups, people on trucks, union members, people on bicycles, people dancing, etc. Everyone seeming so very happy, and me, I'm so happy too.

On one side of me was a young latino couple with a small child. The child really wasn't sure of what to make of this, but the couple were having a great time. On the other side of us was a man with a camera, and he and I would tag team. Some people would bee-line right to me (or the small child) with stickers, candy, info, frisbees; others would bee-line to the man with the camera, so we did a lot of trading. Someone from the sheriff's office gave me a junior deputy sheriff star sticker!

For the longest time, I recognized no one. I mean, politicians would go by, and I would recognize them, but that doesn't really count. Then finally, I recognized Roey Thorpe, who I used to know in Ann Arbor. Not that, I think, she recognized me.

And then, suddenly, the Bike Gallery folks rode by, many on the cool Electra cruisers. Sweetie spotted them first, saying, hey, look, there's a Rat Fink! And then, there was the young woman who had been so cool, and so patient, and so totally great, and had sold me the pink townie! I yelled out her name, she looked back, and there was this look of joy and total recognition. Tee hee hee! Yay!

After the parade, we were, not surprisingly, hungry. So we scooted to a new mexican place on Interstate called Michoacan. The place that was there before was a dump, and this is even more so, but strangely charming. Lots of books everywhere, in spanish and english. Videos in spanish. The soccer game, Brazil trouncing Mexico. Very very primative paintings of the usual mexican restaurant themes.

They sat us down immediately and brought chips and salsa. The chips appeared to be recently fried, and homemade, from fresh homemade tortillas. The salsa I was less crazy about, essentially tomato juice with big chunks of onion and peppers and cilantro. We ordered, and our meals, which came very quickly, came with fresh homemade tortillas, delicious refried beans and spanish rice. The tortillas were so good that I could have easily eaten them just with salt. Oh, but can you imagine a little butter and salt?

I quickly saw that we ordered the wrong thing. A whole fried fish was the most gorgeous thing imaginable, and cheap. The beef soup looked substantial and tantilizing. The shrimp cocktail, quite yummy.

Anyways, my omelet de carne asada was enough food for three, so I have plenty for migas tomorrow morning!

This evening has been wild. At first, the sky was green. Tornado sky. Then it was yellow. I had never seen the sky be yellow. Then orange. Huh? Then pink. And now a deep cornflower blue. It's 9:15 as I write this, so it won't be dark for another half hour.

Posted at June 19, 2005

Comments

Posted by: hollumns at June 19, 2005 10:18 PM

Posted by: Glenda at June 20, 2005 6:19 PM