Laura Goldberg

Laura Goldberg

Monday, June 11, 2012

Pride and Oy

Well another pride week in Boston has come and gone and I as usual, I have some thoughts on it. Mostly though, this weekend has made me realize once again how lucky I am that I can openly say I am gay without judgement from the people I care about.  I think I take that for granted sometimes. Being gay is something that is just a part of me and not something that I really think about when it comes to stigma from the public. My family are very open about it and they really just want me to be happy.   Although my social worker mother would have a field day with some of the gays I saw this weekend for sure.

I wish that everyone could openly say that they are gay and I think that with time, they will be able to.

This brings me to pride weekend.

Let's begin with Friday at the dyke march.  This was my first year doing the dyke march and I am really glad that I did it.  I think it was important for me to see a group of people getting together to show the community that it is okay to be gay.  I've never really worried about that before so being in a group of other people who have had to fight for it was in a way humbling for me.  Fred, the girl and I walked together.

Now this doesn't mean I don't have some thoughts on the march.  I do. Trust me I do.  While I understand and fully agree that gays should have all the same rights as everyone else, I know that this will take time. It was only a couple of decades ago that men were legally told that they couldn't slap a woman on her ass in the workplace.  Things like this take time.  And we are getting closer and closer.  That is why marches like these are important.  However, I don't always agree that people need to be so angry at them or come up with chants that make absolutely no sense at all.

"Fuck your pink.  Fuck your blue.  Fuck your gender and we'll fuck you."  What does that even mean?

And the signs.  One girl had a sign that on one side said, "Butch and proud" and on the opposite side said "No more labels". That is just a contradiction and really just makes her look kind of like an idiot.  All be it, a gay idiot.  And let's face it, when it comes to idiots, I don't discriminate.

Moving on the parade on Saturday.  If you don't know, I love parades. I love any kind of parade and I hate to miss them.  And just for anyone who is reading for the future, I may seem anxious about getting to a parade on time, just wait until there is a fireworks display scheduled.  You might as well drop me off the night before if you don't want me pacing back and forth and tapping my leg until we leave.

The girl and I reached the parade after of course I paced and tapped my due share.  Hey, I am slowly becoming more patient but even I have my moments of setback. The parade was fun but once again I had to wonder why there weren't more fancy floats and drag queens and music and flair.  Mostly, there were just people from different churches marching.  Boring.  I mean I am glad that your church and your Jesus accepts you and all but after one or two, I get the point.  By the way, Jesus wore basically what looked like Birkenstock sandals and drank wine when he went out.  Gay.

My favorite part of the parade, however was the end. I have never been part of that before.  At the end of the parade everyone got on the streets and walked down to Government Center together while the Portuguese played music. It was a lot of fun.  I love when the city gets together like that.  It makes me feel so happy to live in Boston.

Moving on to the block party.  Yes, I went to the block party.  Yes, I drank a can of beer.  A can. I never drink beer in cans.  But, I did it.  The girl and I went together and it really wasn't all that bad.  In the past, the block party has been a source of major annoyance and anxiety for me and I would always leave feeling really pissed off.  However, this time I just took it all in and looked around and mostly just laughed.

The thing is, most people at this block party were so young.  Every year, the lesbians get younger and younger while I get older and older.  And while the lesbians my age are getting married, and buying houses and adopting kids and traveling the world, the younger ones are getting sloppy drunk, humping each other and wearing neon tank tops.  It's all just so silly to me.  I'm all for a fun day and hanging with friends and having a drink or two but I don't need to be with the young lesbians finding their way. Don't get me wrong, I would love to have some more gay friends.  I need more gay friends.  But, I want gay friends who love to go hiking and camping and to the theater and the movies and travel and go to nice restaurants and order fancy meals and make sarcastic and witty comments and are just as comfortable going out for a drink as they are playing a game at my house.

As you can tell, the girl and I were out for a few hours by this point. We decided to keep it going and we went to the Rattlesnack.  We were the first in line, which never happens for me at these things.  It was around this time, that my sarcastic mood began to appear more rapidly.  I was looking around at all the people in line and started to really wonder why so many lesbians just let themselves go.  So many lesbians are overweight, wear clothes that don't fit, and walk around with a frown acting like they are just too cool for everything and everyone.  I am not sure if this has to do with their self esteem or what, but I think I could make a fortune on a lesbian diet plan.  I figure if I just put a diet shake in a cans of bud light, that could be a start.  It could work.  Then I looked down at my belly and realized that I need to get in shape too!  My back has been hurting so I took ten days off of yoga and it has made a huge difference.  I have been eating like crap and this has drastically affected both my belly and my mood.

The Rattlesnake wasn't all that bad accept once again, it was filled with really annoying and young lesbians.  A few of them just made me shake their head.  What is with the baggy jeans, the plaid shirts with the sleeves cut off, the suspenders and the boxers.  And yes, this was one person.  It must take such a long time to look so un-put-together.  Everyone pretty much just got drunk and I watched the Celtics lose.  But that was fine.  At the end of the night, I got to get away from the lesbians and I got pancakes.

So to conclude, yes I am glad that I can say I am gay.  I am glad that I can date someone and kiss her in public and hold her hand and walk beside her and be happy.  For me pride week doesn't mean lime bud light and rainbow wrist bands.  I mean, those are good too but pride week for me just means, well, that I can be proud.

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