Today, I walked with my synagogue’s entry in the Pride Parade and had a blast. The decorations we made (giant menorah with pride candles) turned out wonderfully, the rain cleared off and everyone seemed to have a fun time.
(I hung back near the float for a sec and took this picture. How could I not? Doesn’t it look so fantastic?)
We were number 100 of 237, so we stood around for over an hour beforehand. I was chatting with another member (who wore the greatest t-shirt of the day: “Nice Jewish Girl Seeks Same”), when a guy approached and began to tell us this bizarre story– his wife is terminally ill and they decided it would be best for him to get a customized Real Doll to replace her, at least sexually. He began this in response to her shirt, telling her that if she didn’t have luck finding this nice Jewish girl, she could look into purchasing one of these dolls. She said: “Um, does he know how the whole lesbian thing works?”
Anyway, he goes on and on about this doll, even opening his wallet to reveal an up-close portrait, not of his wife, but of his Real Doll. (Yes, I’ll wait while you re-read that last sentence.)
So, the marching started finally. I particularly enjoyed crowd responses like, “Yeah! I’m Gay and Jewish! Woooo!” and “Mazel Tov!” and “Shabbat Shalom to YOU!”… ah, good times. A few people whipped out various Hebrew tattoos, which I’m always in favor of doing, a group of young and shirtless men tried to do a drunken kickline to “Hava Nagila” and one group of women started singing “V’Shamru” as we passed. Two women shrieked, “I’m fucking Jewish! Yeah!” as we passed and drunkenly marched with us for a while. I don’t know what happened to them, only that they were suddenly not marching. I can only assume they passed out someplace safe…? Yeah.
There were maybe only about four or five people with “G-d Hates You” signs and blah blah blah.
I saw more than a few ladies with only x’s of electric tape on their nipples, some gorgeous drag queens, some hideous drag queens, some hairy drag queens, many dude dancers in cowboy hats, many, many punk rock grrls, and one old friend. Not a bad day, I’d say.