2011 Gay Pride
I arrived home, in NYC, a day after New York passed marriage equality. GH had heard the announcement on TV, and gone down to the Stonewall Inn to celebrate the historic occasion. I was happy to hear the news, though marriage equality has not been as important to me as it is to the LGBT community in the USA. I did feel, however, that I had missed the moment, as I did, and will do, for other moments, because I am always on the move.
GH and I cannot decide right now whether to march in the Parade today. It'd be odd for him to march with the Gay Asian Men's Group, and not till now do I feel the limitations of racial and ethnic identification. I would feel odd too marching with his church group, though less so than he would feel marching with gay Asians. I do not think of myself as Christian any longer, but will go to the church service this morning with my guy.
I question my need to identify as gay by marching today. It's easy to join in a celebration, much harder to stand up when it really counts. Still, it would be perverse not to march for that reason.
*
We did not march, after all, but walked up and down the parade route, on the sidelines, and so walked at least twice the parade length. We had a drink at Agave on Sixth Avenue, watched a little more of the parade (always the same section that had finally caught up with us), and then had dinner in the well-hidden back garden of the Brazilian restaurant, Cafe Bee.
The new Dream Hotel, on 16th Street, by 9th Avenue, threw a free Pride party. After lining up for a while, we got in. The rooftop gave beautiful views of the city, to the left the Hudson River, to the right the Empire State Building and beyond. Lots of beautiful, muscular boys in revealing tank tops or less. Always bittersweet to watch them, conscious of my own age, conscious of my difference, and of their unattainability.
The poolside party was even more testosterone-filled, two men swimming lazily in the narrow pool. The hotel decor was too self-consciously chic for me, without real elegance, but perhaps that was an appropriate setting for the fantastic display of the male body.
GH and I cannot decide right now whether to march in the Parade today. It'd be odd for him to march with the Gay Asian Men's Group, and not till now do I feel the limitations of racial and ethnic identification. I would feel odd too marching with his church group, though less so than he would feel marching with gay Asians. I do not think of myself as Christian any longer, but will go to the church service this morning with my guy.
I question my need to identify as gay by marching today. It's easy to join in a celebration, much harder to stand up when it really counts. Still, it would be perverse not to march for that reason.
*
We did not march, after all, but walked up and down the parade route, on the sidelines, and so walked at least twice the parade length. We had a drink at Agave on Sixth Avenue, watched a little more of the parade (always the same section that had finally caught up with us), and then had dinner in the well-hidden back garden of the Brazilian restaurant, Cafe Bee.
The new Dream Hotel, on 16th Street, by 9th Avenue, threw a free Pride party. After lining up for a while, we got in. The rooftop gave beautiful views of the city, to the left the Hudson River, to the right the Empire State Building and beyond. Lots of beautiful, muscular boys in revealing tank tops or less. Always bittersweet to watch them, conscious of my own age, conscious of my difference, and of their unattainability.
The poolside party was even more testosterone-filled, two men swimming lazily in the narrow pool. The hotel decor was too self-consciously chic for me, without real elegance, but perhaps that was an appropriate setting for the fantastic display of the male body.
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