Mood:
celebratoryJim, and Becky (II) joined me going down to Market Street and Civic Center to attend the 38th annual San Francisco Pride Parade today. At first I'm toying with walking across Golden Gate Park and taking the N-Judah train, but that can run rather infrequently, and as I'm not certain what I might end up doing after the Parade, I decide instead to drive to and leave the car near Market Street. We end up not so far from Civic Center, so we decide to hoof it the rest of the way and skip trains or streetcars.
We didn’t arrive early, so we had to work our walk to the curbside incrementally as others left. Not that it’s a big deal...the parade is hours long, so there’s no hurry. Eventually, we get to the curb and watch the floats and marchers go by.
I notice my new friend Turner across the street. At 6’6” he’s tough to miss! I wave. He sees me. I blow kisses. It’s that kind of day.
A bit later I happened to look up at a tall float passing and was pleasantly surprised to see my friends Mike and Lou and their two adorable boys riding on the float for their adoption agency. They’re the guys I most wanted to see at the parade today. Lou sees me. Yay!
A bit later David—he of the marriage license from yesterday’s post—marches down the street. I call out his name. He sees me, too.I see many other familiar faces go by...a fella from Cliff’s Variety, uber bear-event organizer Rich, etc. etc.
Sweetest thing about the parade is all the guys and gals with Just Married shirts and signs. It’s such a beautiful thing to see. Let’s hope California voters aren’t stupid or cruel enough to vote to abolish it in November.
Awwww...and their pix make a heart...
Having had enough parade, we get off the beaten path and approach Civic Center by a less crowded means than Market Street, but once there, it’s wall to wall people. I later heard this was estimated to be record breaking attendance. If it wasn’t, it sure looked like it!
An acquaintance took somepix of me without my knowing and emailed them to me. Note the vintage Hawiian shirt!
After I munch down a hot dog and garlic fries and score a Red Hook beer, we run into Don—he also of the marriage license from yesterday’s post—and 6’6” Turner’s other half also called David (not to be confused with Don's David). By this point, Jim and Becky are over the crowd, so I walk them to their exit from the event, then head back in to re-find Don.
The Balloons! Don (left) and Turner & David (right)
Don texts me that they’re heading for the Lone Star Saloon, so I hurry out of the festival and follow them. I catch them about the block from the destination. The bar’s not crowded...at first. Our arrival was just in time, as within an hour the place is packed.
After three drinks and a lot of hellos to acquaintances and people I know just from seeing them on the street, I’m close to having had enough.
Just then Alyssa calls to tell me she and Marc are Tommy’s bound. It's hard to hear her, no matter where I move. She says I am in the louidest place on Earth. I feels like it at that moment. Anyway, as I’m rather partied out, haven’t seen Alyssa since New Years, and Tommy’s is on the way home, I say my goodbyes and bolt.
Well, not exactly bolt. My car is near the old S.F. Mint, about 1.1 miles away, but as I’ve had a few drinks, the walk does me good.
Marc and Alyssa and their 5 year old daughter Madeline await me. I’ve hit my limit this weekend, so I only have one margie, but Madline’s drinking the hard stuff...milk.
And with dinner over I head home. And as this Pride weekend winds down I decide I am momentarily more tired than proud.
I’ll be proud again tomorrow.
Zzzzzz...
Now that takes the cake...
