Pride parade

We lost count of how many parades we have attended now, possibly more than 90.

I did attend one of those gay pride parades once, by accident really. I was out riding my bike with my certain friend Glenn. I say he is my certain friend, because if I was not certain he was my friend, I would almost be completely certain that he was almost always trying to kill me. Once or twice he has viciously knocked me off a bicycle, possibly, I may not be remembering that part clearly. One time he threw a knife at me from a great distance. I saw it coming and took defensive action. Another time, he handed me a running chainsaw in such sloppy fashion that most of my left arm was chopped completely off. I could go on, the list is almost endless.

Anyway, what I do know is that we were thrift store shopping via bike and low and behold, we cycled right into a gay pride parade in Seattle. It was a terrible event. Just an eyesore. My lord. I was appalled. Shocked really. At some point there was a gaggle of lesbians on motorcycles, that was refreshing. A man in a diaper almost made me want to puke, a few men in dresses both scared me and made me wonder. Countless men chose to wear jockstraps, which at the time seemed strange because none of them appeared to be preparing for an athletic event. Lucky for us we were drinking, so much of the parade came and went as a giant pink boa and the smell of sweat and leather.

What I did take away from that adventure was how sad it is that something called a pride parade is really more of a freak show. Seriously, any community could bring out its fetish wear and acting out drama queens and call it a parade, but is that really the face you would want on any community? I'm just saying.

Which is why I only attend Shame Parades. Oh, I know, it is often just me and my children, our lesbian dog and her lover and lately they have to be shamed into going, but I think, as traditions go, this one is a keeper.

One of the great things about living in our little ghetto is the downtown core of our town has been abandoned. The buildings are all still there, these old solid brick buildings will be standing for a long time. The problem is, there are no businesses inside of the buildings. Nothing. There is a security company of some sort, it's kind of a mystery. I think someone opened a used bookstore, but everyone tells me you can buy crack there. An older gay couple opened a used furniture store, naturally, but that is only open weekends, and then, seemingly, weekends when they feel like it.

So, the roads are empty. We marched down the main street on Saturday, filled with shame. No one was out, of course, which made us even more aware of what social outcasts we had become. Oh the shame of it all. I waved to a squirrel in a tree.

Once again, the Shame Parade was a big hit. No turnout, no negative stories in the press, nothing about the children, those sacred children being exposed to shame. Nope, nothing. We fly under the radar, which, as filled with shame as we are, the very last thing we would want to do is garner the attention of anyone more influential than a squirrel sunning himself on a lazy Saturday afternoon.