All it takes is one glorious New York Sunday. Fifth Avenue packed three- and four-deep, lined with rainbow flags—and everyone cheering and smiling. Gay Pride in abeyance? Loss of interest and lack of attendance? Hardly. Think again.

There’s a contingent of gay firemen marching proudly, followed by a corps of gay policemen—and the crowd cheering them on. To think that we’ve arrived at this point. Still so far to go—but already, we’re here. It’s enough to make you Spank Someone Happy—which is what’s written on wooden paddles handed out by the Pleasure Chest.

And a float called Streetwork, filled with local youth, cheering for their group Safe Horizon. Still so far to go—when we need to be reminded to care for our own youth.

And gay dogs in rainbow leis and two gay dads, one of whom holds their toddler aloft, on his shoulders—only to watch the kid get sprayed full-on with a water gun. The crowd roars with laughter—but the kid is not amused. He wails and wails. Of course he does—he’s a sensitive gay child.

Some years it rains and some years it’s humid—but not this year. This year the weather is gay fabulous. Sunny and mild—and perfect for celebrating. There’s no room for mean today, and a t-shirt with the words Buck Fush seems somehow a response for a world that’s still not quite right.

Boyz and couples, all colors and shapes, men and girls, and kids waving rainbow flags, draped in multi-colored beads. We’re gonna get it right someday. Love and pride all the time.   

Best always,
Mark and Robert