Here we go again! San Francisco is readying itself for that most sacred of sacred cows, our yearly triumphal march: the gay pride parade. For the entire month of June, rainbow flags wave along Market Street from the Castro all the way to The Embarcadero to prepare us for this most glorious occasion. On the anointed Sunday even the Main Library closes in strict observance, as the vast crowd cheers and roars and the media slobber and fawn.
For more than 40 years, “Gayworld” has been the recipient of sustained, rapturous applause. I think it’s high time we get a grip on things. As a gay man, I must ask myself: What unparalleled contributions have we fags actually made to human civilization to deserve — and expect! — such an unprecedented level of adulation? The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence? Naked men in the Castro? Dykes on Bikes? A singalong “Sound of Music”? How crushingly embarrassing! Who could possibly live up to such fantastic public adoration?
No other group receives such a grotesquely inflated reception year after year, decade after decade. Next to the pride parade, the Chinese New Year Parade resembles a paltry, undernourished second cousin. Some people make the unctuous claim that the parade is a kind of compensation for all the tremendous suffering we poor sissies have endured over the centuries. Phooey! If that were the case, our black brothers and sisters should be granted a parade every week.
I think it’s high time we ask some very inconvenient questions. Will somebody, anybody please tell me: Why should we queers be showered with these outsized, spectacular civic honors? I’d really like to know. A big parade was surely in order, absolutely in order, when Harvey Milk got elected supervisor, but the whole celebration should have been mothballed decades ago, or at least relegated to the Castro district itself. I’m stunned by the obsequiousness and uncritical attitude of our city government, not to mention the gullible public at large, who apparently love the illusion that we fags are the greatest, most fun things civilization has ever seen.
The opposition to the “toxic” proposed turf fields at the Beach Chalet, as one breathless letter-writer put it, really has nothing to do with that issue or songbirds cavorting on a dirt patch.
I am bewildered that there was no opposition to the “toxic” turf recently installed at the Crocker Amazon playgrounds. I guess the alleged toxicity for children didn’t merit concern when the location was not in their neighborhood, and now we have crocodile tears.
At least one letter writer was honest when it was said “they can find ‘7 measly acres [out of 1,017 in the park]’ in their backyard, not mine” (Letters, Monday).
It seems almost every day we hear about a new massacre, a new mass murder of Syrian innocents by the Assad dictatorship. At this moment, Syrian children are being used as human shields.
So where are our sanctimonious peace and justice friends now? When are they going to lead a flotilla to Syria?