And the passing of Proposition 8 in California did not deter this feeling of victory, but, rather, called it to duty, to action. Days later, I participated in my first political rally outside the Church of the Latter-Day Saints, marching en masse down to Columbus Circle.
In the last few months, riding the daily rollercoaster of Gay Rights rulings and repudiations, I have marveled at how personal the political not just is, but feels. I used to feel like a Politics dilettante, who could sometimes talk the talk, but would rather re-watch Patti LuPone’s Tony Awards performances than engage in current affairs. Somehow, lately, I have felt directly involved in and affected by everything going on in the world around me. I don’t just feel obligated to care. I care.
And yet, as this year’s Pride approached, I recoiled at the idea of marching, of spending the day expressing something pointed and specific. I yearned for a day to revel in my life as a liberated New Old Gay, so lucky to be living in this city in this century. In this period of taking a stand every day, I wanted Pride to be a celebration and, so, it was back to brunch and boozing and boys with my buddies.
July 2nd, 2009 at 12:36 pm
Of all the “Don’t Rain on My Parade” clips, why that one?
I’m sorry. Was I supposed to say something more significant?
July 2nd, 2009 at 6:47 pm
i love that you picked this one! if for nothing else than the long blonde hair!
July 2nd, 2009 at 7:18 pm
Thanks, Nat!
My reasons for choosing this Don’t Rain On My Parade were:
1.) She looks pretty, kind of like a number of my friends’ moms when I was little.
2.) It’s not the tugboat movie version all the New Old Gays already know, frame by frame, by heart.
3.) Its somewhat cheesy 70s variety show aesthetic which I adore and one which Babs has really steered clear of for decades.