Indeed it was. Here the day after, I think I’m suffering from Glitter Lung, which is not unlike Flavor Crystal Lung that besets our dear miners who toil for Frito-Lay to provide the world with coolest of ranch. Luckily I did not accidentally let ruptured glow-stick goo somehow get into my mouth. That is a lesson well learned from many a bar and bat mitzvah party. I am convinced that the odd flavor indicates glow sticks are not of this world, but are stolen alien technology reverse engineered from Roswell.
Of course, the day started at Anvil. And there is no better way to start a fun-filled event fraught with top-notch people-watching than a homemade Pride Parade Bingo game.
I didn’t quite get a blackout, but did see most of the things. However, a good part of the game was also seeing things/people and then regretting that they weren’t on the bingo board. For example: guy in a mustache with gold lamé underwear.
There was also the woman with the horse hoof shoes. Save it for Renaissance Faire, lady!
Of course, this was Houston and thus the usual Houston confusion as how to deal with people walking in the street. The Wendy’s on Westheimer charged $15 for parking, $2 for a bag of ice, and $1 to use the restroom. Totally gay.
Overall, the day really seemed to come into its own. First, there was the whole festival that preceded the parade. Given that the parade doesn’t start until 9 pm, that is a good day’s worth of having a gay ‘ol time.
Houston is a place that, due to city design and weather, one does not usually spot many pedestrians, even in the more walkable neighborhoods. Seeing the crowds walking along Westheimer was quite the sight to behold. If only every day were more like that.
The whole thing reminded me of being back in New York City, with youthful crowds just walking around. And best of all, random cheap hotdogs on the street! Another reason why Catbirds is one of the best bars in Houston.
The random mini-stages and musical groups were a surprising and welcome addition, not to mention felt like a personal fuck-you to Austin.
We ended up in a friend of a friend’s apartment that overlooked Westheimer. The view was something else.
Of course, we weren’t the only ones who recognized the benefits of an elevated view. A bunch of people climbed on top of Catbirds to watch from the roof. This also got my bingo square for “look at that fukkin’ hipster.”
There were some great floats/cars in the parade. For example, there was the South Beach float.
The Lesbians Over Age Fifty float (Bingo!)
The marching band that played Lady Gaga.
And of course, Houston Police Department squad car number 69.
Of course, my personal favorite activity was watching the underage kids in the Wendys parking lot drinking for what was obviously the first time. They did not appreciate me yelling at them, exposing their secret hiding place behind the dumpster where the cops wouldn’t dare see them sneaking booze out of a large soda. It was all fun and games until one of the young rapscallions PTFO’d.
Luckily, he came to in a few minutes and hopefully learned an important lesson.
Overall, a fun time. It is difficult to tell whether the day was especially rambunctious because of New York having legalized gay marriage just the day before. Perhaps those on the street had a better perspective.
Here is Dan playing a ukulele at Clare’s apartment after the parade.