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Given that this year’s
Heritage of Pride
(HOP) theme was live love be – and that its graphic was a
psychedelic profusion of squiggles, spewing like spermatozoa from a
rainbow fountain, was it any wonder that the Pier Dance featured
raindrops and showers for the first hour? Oh, really, Mother
Nature—as if that could stop a pierful of dancing queens.
From the West Side Highway all the way out into the Hudson, we were
a vast sea of rainbow beauty, dancing into the night. Which is
saying something right there—given that Dance on the Pier is a
tradition born out of a time when the LGBT community could barely
congregate, let alone dance openly. So each year, we dance on the
Pier—as a reminder of what was denied us in the past.
And this year, we were more than ever—so many of us squished onto
Pier 54 that every time you gained a little elevation and gazed
across the expanse of us, this army of dancing love, you had to
shake your head in admiration. Get a load of us, world—and listen
up: this is how you do it. This is cooperative community. Learn from
us, world.
We entered to
DJ Joe G. working
“Bleeding Love,” with its lyric “I don’t care what they say”—and
there it was again,
HOP’s theme live love
be—because regardless of certain laws and sanctions that say
otherwise, we have the right: to live, love, and be. And this Pier
Dance was our statement, our communal celebration along the Hudson
River.
With 100% of the proceeds benefiting LGBT Pride events, the Pier
Dance pulls out all the bells and whistles, making this one party
that’s nearly unrivalled for sheer magnitude. As one awestruck boy
asked, “Is this party bigger than
Black and Blue’s Main
Event?” Well, one thing’s for sure—Pier Dance could hardly be more
gay. For example, there was the Rainbow Regatta, a fleet of eight or
ten vessels sailing just beyond the Pier’s western end, their
rainbow banners billowing in the breeze as the sun prepared to set.
And then along came that fireboat, shooting five massive jets of
rainbow-colored waterspouts—at which point, please, the crowd went
berserk, cheering and shouting. It was nearly sunset then, and
Joe G. had kept the
crowd in the palm of his hand, foreplaying them into a writhing mass
of anticipation—and when those waterspouts released—well, it was
cathartic, to say the least.
There are so many elements to Pier Dance, not the least of which are
the myriad volunteers, so cheerful and unflappable—well, save for
one discombobulated missy who lost her cool when her drink tray
tumbled.
Heritage of Pride
head Anthony Dean does a superb job at orchestrating all the pieces
to create a nearly seamless six-hour show.
As the sun slipped behind the Jersey skyline, lighting guy
Guy Smith switched on
the lights over the floor—and suddenly, there was
Tracy Young on the
boards, like a bolt of lightning, like a horse out of the gate—and
off we went, the herd of us galloping into the night.
There were flaggers on a stand along the Pier’s northern side, their
multi-colored flags whipping in tandem with
Tracy’s contagious
set. That girl was on fire. We’re talking fueled by Pride.
The pier was packed—with everyone you’ve ever known. People such as
Ron Perkov, Shane and
Victor, Patti Razetto,
Warren Rigg, Chad
Richter, Alex Breitman, Tod and Gorm, as well as Marco from
Venezuela and his group of eleven newbies to Pride, and a SoFla
group of never-been-to-NewYork-befores, as well as two boyz from Oz
who’d never before seen flagging and said to us, “We don’t have this
in our country. What’s it called again?”
Honey, it’s called Pride—and it happens once a year, though it
really should happen every single day and every minute of your life.
Behind us, just across the highway, there was the Empire State
Building, one of
HOP’s marketing
sponsors, illuminated in lavender and white. Now there’s a sight for
you—New York City’s signature icon glowing lavender: for US! Who
says things aren’t getting better? We just have to keep on keeping
on. Being proud and public every day.
The city’s skyline glowed—and so did Jersey’s—while
Guy Smith sent washes
of color over the crowd. It was a beautiful sight—so many people
dancing as the turquoise banners whipped along the waterfront. And
then word went round: “she” was about to come onstage. There’d been
rumors. Was it really “her”? Or was it—
“Ladies and gentlemen:
Jennifer Hudson.” And
the crowd went crazy. That girl came out singing—“All Dressed Up In Love”—and
kept on singing tracks from her soon-to-be-released album. Hands in
the air, the boyz were screaming, singing along and cheering. And
Ms. Hudson showed the
love right back, keeping it real, being true—and making us know
she’s one of us. She’s for real, that one—check her out here.
There was, of course, that song: “(And I’m Tellin’ You) I’m Not
Going.” We all knew she’d sing it—and we all sang along with her—and
then she was gone—just in time for the fireworks that burst overhead
to the sounds of “Love Is In the Air,” of course— A splendid
explosion of Pride that kept the crowd focused on the sky above as a
rainbow of color shimmered down around us— And still we gazed
heavenward, as if sending out our light to the galaxies beyond.
And that was Pier Dance. It’s a special party. A massive celebration
of love and pride—one that you deserve to share at least once, if
not once a year. Or as
HOP had it, live love
be all the way to next year.
Best always,
Mark and Robert
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