What's he on about now?

In case the articles, essays and opinions throughtout this site just weren't enough for you, here's my online diary (a.k.a. 'blog'). It's as close as you'll come to the inside of my head, so don't say I didn't warn you
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   Thursday, June 26, 2003

"HAPPY PRIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!".....UGH

Yes, Gay Christmas is fast approaching and I....don't especially care. Not that I have a problem with it (thank you, Jerry Seinfeld), nor am I some 'self-hating homophobe' (ie. someone who doesn't immediately subscribe to the 'gay-good-straight-bad' school of politics), but I just think I'm too old, frankly.

Like Christmas, Gay Pride is for kids. It's for those fresh-out-of-the-closet newbies from 9 to 90 (and if you think there's no gay 9-year-olds out there, you've clearly never seen the kid on that "Who's the Boss?" sitcom -- he writes for "The Advocate" now and we ALL saw that coming). When I moved to Toronto in 1992, with everything but my closet door, Pride Day was the best thing ever -- an incredible street party where the ordinary people made me feel fascinating and the fascinating people made me feel ordinary. As they say, I Was Not Alone. Pride Day has been all about first times -- I remember the first time I attended the parade, the first guy I picked up at an afterparty, the first all-morning brunch with friends, and the first day spent holding hands with my boyfriend amidst the hundreds of thousands of others. It's been beautiful, and it's been done.

Now, and for the last two years, I've been working on Pride Day at Gay Ground Zero. The pub gets thousands of people streaming through its doors all weekend long and the inside is always filled to capacity. The energy is electric, exciting and, sadly, exhausing. I've nothing left. All week long, customers have been squealing "Happy Pride!!!!" at me and, in some sensitive cases, catching me in my plastic smile. "Aren't you excited?" they ask. "Do you work retail?" I ask back and, when they answer yes, I say, "Then today is December 21." I can see the light coming on in their eyes as they get it.

I'm a massive grouch, of course -- I will enjoy seeing the city erupt with gayness all weekend, as I always have, and no work-stress will ever take away that pleasure. But, as BB King says, the thrill is gone, gone away from me. I leave it for the next generation, those high-schoolers and graduates who'll come downtown on Sunday with their eyes wide open.

Labels: Trawna