Tale of two Prides :: NYC and Toronto
0Sometimes we journalists must suffer for our art.
I decided to do two Prides in a row: NYC Pride on the last weekend of June, and Toronto Pride the first weekend of July. Due to the G-20 Summit held in Toronto this year when their Pride normally takes place (always the same weekend as NYC), it was possible to do both. Well, if one was willing to endure such massive expenditures of time and energy with only four days break between them.
My conclusion: Manhattan will always be the Mother Church of the worldwide Gay Liberation movement. Sure, places like Berlin, LA, San Francisco, and Philadelphia were important pre-Stonewall sites for Gay folklife. But it wasn't until 1969 Stonewall when the Snap Heard 'Round The World burst out in headlines across continents that we could claim a truly global awareness of ourselves as a people.
That being said, Toronto and Montreal have since forged ahead of every major metropolis in championing LGBT rights. Many Americans such as myself find it necessary to make a pilgrimage to Canada and the Shining City on the edge of Lake Ontario, just so we can see how things might someday be in our own country. I may yet cover Montreal in August, God willing.
Here are the highlights of my twin sojourns.
NYC Pride: A Flat Tire in BFE Pennsylvania
You know it's going to be an epic journey when you find yourself in BFE Pennsylvania with a van full of cute guys and a flat.
A little background: I have always wanted to see New York Pride, so I went with the good people at FindFred's networking site for Gay men a road trip.
We took off from Columbus, Ohio an hour late. Not because of GPT (Gay People's Time) but because one of the vans had a tire with a slow leak. Thinking it was fixed, we took off. Three hours later, somewhere in the no-queen's land lost the high hills of the Quaker State (no I-Phone reception), the fixed flat proved an epic fail.
If nothing else, the first part of this trip demonstrated the marvels and train wrecks associated with I Phone. I think I'll hold off getting one for another year until halos and such are a faded memory.
Back to the flat. Three hours into the trip, we all got in line at a Subway/Dairy Queen, some 9 guys all in identical black FindFred shirts. Imagine nine fairly masculine werq-ing girls in the midst of rural Middle America. A woman with a hot boyfriend behind me asked, "What is FindFred?"
I was like a deer in the headlights. Last thing I wanted was to have some righteous Christian homophobe go off on the lot of us. I looked to our Fearless Leader, Sam Schisler, who looked her right in the eye and said, "We are the world's largest Gay men's networking site."
Sam made me proud. She took the revelation in stride, as did Hot Boyfriend.
When we finally noticed the van had a flat, we called a pot-bellied local man who showed up in a red truck to check it out. His shop was just a short ways down the road, he said. "I only need one of you guys to go with me."
Sam got in the van, and one of our wittier boys said, "Don't get killed!" We all laughed, but I thought the better of him going by himself, so I joined him.
Good thing! Drag queen goddess Anisa Love was still crashed in the back. When we got there, Sam said, "Stay down, girl."
Pretty soon, we were out of First World America and back to a more basic land of faded American flags, plywood-enhanced buildings, and the hard-working poor who might or might not approve of our pilgrimage to NYC Pride. Two guys (and an old man who shuffled over to watch them work) took out the spare and got us ready to go.
There was no office, no AC. I asked for a restroom. With a sheepish grin, the chief mechanic said, "Just go 'round back in the trees behind the building."
When the fellas asked Sam "Who's Find Freddy?" his answer was a bit more vague: "We're an online networking site." Prudence has its place.
Fast forward from Deliverance to the Holland Tunnel. We were stuck in horrendous Manhattan traffic at 10 o'clock, Anisa chatting away on her I-Phone (working once more) to her hot New York trick: "Leave the child at home, son, I need some man tonight!"
NYC Pride in the Big Green Apple
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Before I go into the details of NYC Pride, let's talk about the setting.
We are witnessing the Greening of Manhattan. Not only did I get a chance to see the miracle that is Central Park for the first time and the beautiful landscaping by the Hudson River in the extended park along Chelsea, I walked the High Line, an elevated garden on what was once a section of freight railroad. Details of its former employment are preserved with sections of railway peeking through the greenery. The gardens preserve some of the random landscaping that years of neglect and pioneering done by wild plants had wrought upon the decaying structure before the makeover. The broad walkway invites casual strolling and jogging, and patches of ornamental flowers run the course of the tracks, accented by benches and even lounges for sunbathers. It is safe to say that, for Straight and Gay New Yorkers, pride begins with such beautiful additions to the city's overwhelming concrete and steel corridors.
My hotel was only a couple of blocks from the southwest corner of Central Park, so I finally took the time to see it for myself, at the point where the park touches the circle that is Columbus Square.
Just beyond Columbus Square, there is a monument appropriate for Gay Pride: a memorial to lost seamen. A couple hundred yards further is a bank for lost seamen: the public toilets.
All of this is the preamble for the great forest ramble, Central Park, a true wonder in the midst of so much vertical urban. Sunlight shown through the trees as people rode bikes, walked, and jogged. A short way into the lush greenery took me to large rocky high spots littered with acorn tops and not too many cigarette butts. No doubt it will be what survives above sea level after global warming does its thing.
Gay Liberation and Libations of Cheap Vodka
On my first day in New York, I went to Christopher Park to take pictures of the Gay Liberation Monument (bronze sculptures of four people: two men standing together, and two women sitting together) and the actual Stonewall Inn. I arrived while a documentary was being filmed about the statues. The two women (Leslie Cohen and Beth Suskin) who originally posed for the statues were there, sitting on either side of them. Some 30 years later, they still look like their images. And like the images, Leslie and Beth are still together.
I asked Bianca Lanza, the producer of the documentary Written In Stonewall, if I could take a picture of the women with their statues. When she found out that I am the chief editor of the upcoming Encyclopedia of Gay Folklife, I was asked if I wanted to interview them myself. YES!!!
Some of the local characters that frequent the park were making loud noises and fighting amongst themselves. I went over to the three loudest people and offered to buy them a beer at Stonewall, hoping to give the camera crew a break. Instead, we went to a nearby liquor store and bought cheap vodka and clear plastic cups.
We ended up having a party, with music blasting, people dancing, and cops turning a blind eye to our public consumption of alcohol. A more detailed account is in my EDGE column, "My Stonewall Moment."
Let's Work
As the sun went down, I took a nap and prepared for WORK with Peter Rauhofer at the Roseland Ballroom.
The Roseland has changed for the better since last I saw it in 2002. It was transformed from a run-down nostalgic dump to a real hot-spot. The cavernous space had been artfully carved up so that its immensity had a nice intimacy to it. For the first time in said venue, my ears were not cringing from overloud and under-quality sound.
But THE LIGHTS!!!! Three shiny concentric circular frames housed a series of powerful colored lights that made DC's former Nation nightclub pale in comparison. I spoke with Paul Marin, lighting genius from Australia, about it. He showed me a series of pictures of other light installations he had worked with before. Fabulous.
Hitting the dance floor, the crowd was easy-going even as it packed in. Only about half the boys had their shirts off, once again signaling that this generation was setting its own rules when it comes to required conformity in our tribe.
Pride Festival and Destination
Sunday afternoon was an adventure in itself: trying to get to NYC Pride with traffic shut down to a trickle. I did make it to the festival by abandoning my cab in the upper 20s and walking the rest of the way. Our Rainbow Nation was in all its glory as streets were filled with families, men holding hands with their husbands, women strolling with their wives, every kind of gender expression and nationality.
A short nap after the festival and off to Destination (produced by Thomas Sickler, Tony Moran and Ira Kushin), an event held in Pacha, a multi-leveled building that featured different concurrent dance floors. The top was Susan Morabito, the bottom was upcoming DJs Mario Calegari, Carlos Nascimento, Sean McMahon, and Kitty Glitter. The main floor in between the two featured Manny Lehman and Tony Moran.
Morabito's dance floor saw the crowd first, introducing people to my favorite sound: deep house. I have rarely seen such a wonderful mix of young people and old people as was on her dance floor. Sometime later, the main room opened up to Manny Lehman, who took off strong.
It is all too easy for a DJ to leave the gate at full speed, so to speak, with powerful beats and hip-twisting songs. Inevitably, even the strongest beats get monotonous. But Lehman has been to this rodeo many times before, and his selection for Destination constantly surprised me. The build-ups did not get stale, and their pace gave the crowd reason to be increasingly happy with each other.
Within the grand collective gathered in the main room, I was pleased to see a large Asian American contingent of men and women having the time of their lives. Sometimes I think our little Circuit world in the USA is a bit too White-bread. We could use some diversity.
Lehman left the DJ booth on fire. It was honestly the best set I've ever heard him spin. He managed to put everything good about the Circuit in his set.
Next it was Tony Moran's turn, starting with a live performance by Ultra Nat�, Then Moran doubled down on Lehman's power-drive.
Have you ever danced so much that you could barely walk, but when the beat grabbed you once again, your coordination miraculously returned? At one point, I walked through the crowd, beaming at people like proud father, and smiling like I had a secret that I could not tell anyone. I still can't because I have yet to put it into words.
This is it for NYC. Check out my Canadian adventures in "A Tale Of Two Prides, Part II: Toronto."