Despite being an ally to the LGBT community and cause since I was old enough to know what's what, I'd never attended the huge annual NYC Pride march in Manhattan until this past Sunday, simply because ntil now it had always fallen on days when I already had plans. This time around I was free and my dear friend since high school, Cat, suggested I march with her and her daughter, my awesome niece Cleo. More of my extended family – namely college bud Cheri, her beyond cool husband Frank (my default brither-in-law), and their kids, Sadie-Rain (aka Niece Numero Uno) and Nate — hauled their asses down from New Paltz to represent, so it was a family outing full of sweat, glitter, balls in pantyhose, and hands down the most fun and infectious public expression of any group's pride in itself that I have ever witnessed. I assure you that I will be in attendance next year! Anyway, here's the photo safari!
A family outing about to begin. (Adults L-R: Frank, Yer Bunche, Cat, Cheri. Young-uns L-R: Sadie-Rain, Nate, Cleo.)
The first of the day's many excellent tattoos.
Allowed to march in uniform after years of idiotic department-mandated exclusion, the NYPD represents in full regalia while their band struck up spirited renditions of "It's Raining Men" and "YMCA."
Cleo, Cat and Nate show support for the Anti-Violence Project, the group we were affiliated with.
Despite the heat, I suddenly found myself once more transformed into Bunchewolf. Sadie's cool with my lycanthropic ways so rather than be concerned about her uncle being a werewolf, she instead flashes her now braces-free smile.
My very favorite of the parade's thousands of spectators.
This brave soul was schvitzing like a motherfucker in the blazing summer sun.
Ah, lesbians... My people!!!
The first of the day's many lavender Marvel Comics supporters.
Well, DUH.
Not the expected Dykes on Bikes.
Rainbow from head to toe!
With my awesome down-the-block neighbor, Veeta. I ran into her on the way to the train that morning and she wished me "Happy Pride Day," noting that she would see me later, despite me being but one in the more than thens of thousands in the march. All I have to say is that when a righteous elder black chick tells you she's gonna do something, BELIEVE THAT SHIT. She spotted me as I made my way through the massive throng, screaming my name until I was able to pick her out of the crowd. I frequently bitch and moan about certain neighbors on my block, but Veeta is an utter delight. Completely respected and never reviled. (Like many people, I think Veeta believes I'm gay, and I have no concern about correcting her perception. I may be straight but I absolutely embrace my bitchy/queeny/flamboyant aspects.)
Bunchewolf proved a huge hit with the spectators andI ended up getting photographed hundreds of times. I went over especially well with the lesbians in attendance, especially those of black and Hispanic origin, and they went extra-wild when I shoved my tongue out of the mask's mouth hole and wagged it obscenely at them. I even heeded the order of "SHOW US YOUR TITS!!!" that was emblazoned on one very cute dyke's shirt, which caused a bit of an uproar and led Cat to swiftly cover Cleo's eyes. I'm sure those dykes see a hell of a lot of tits but do they often witness the silver-furred moobs of a guy in a werewolf mask and a Davy Crockett hat? I think not! And after all the photos take on Bunchewolf, I'd better see some of them in magazines and online. (If any of you out there see some, please send in links!)
This just warmed my heart.
Once the march hit the Christopher Street area, we spotted many gatherings of friends watching the proceedings from above.
At the end of the parade route, flanked by two examples of sheer manliness. I was humbled in their presence.
Free stuff! YAY!!!
So, here's to all of my lavender brothers and sisters! Never back down and always be proud of who you are. The world would be immeasurably more boring without you, so keep on keeping on!
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