The Gayest Story Ever Told
July 2, 2003
by Bernard Chapin
This Sunday marked the 34th Annual Gay Pride Parade in Chicago and
I was determined, in the name of journalistic integrity, not to miss
it. Although, I moved from the area of Lakeview where it is held (known
colloquially as the Gayborhood) five months ago, I decided to ride
my bike several miles to get to the parade grounds. “The grounds”
were in fact closed off streets which the municipal government barricaded
to allow the gays to have as much attention as possible from the population.
Several of my friends living in the area escaped the crowds and the
gaiety by going to the suburbs for the afternoon but I deemed my presence
essential.
I told my girlfriend that I was planning to increase the crowd participation
by starting cheers like “Let’s Go D-cks!” and emulating
the Ohio State chant, “We Are! Gay as Hell!” She looked
horrified and said that I’d get killed. I told her, “Hey,
that’s what they said to Kennedy before he went to Dallas…so
we’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Of course I was joking. I was as well-behaved a spectator as they’ve
ever had. I perched myself at the corner of Belmont and Broadway (called
Gayway by many) and wordlessly watched the proceedings. In the words
of John Lennon, it was “strange days indeed.” Yet, it
should be noted at the outset that I did not see a great deal of lewd
behavior or drunkenness. Most of the observers were as tame as I,
although they were far more vocal. I did see one person with a t-shirt
proclaiming, “Sodomites Unite.” Undoubtedly, his command
would be followed by many before the day was over.
One fellow across the way kept screaming “show us some skin”
every time a float came by. I recall that he even did this to the
Chicago Recorder of Deeds who was fully dressed and very confused.
Dancing as always is an integral part of the affair. Perhaps this
is due to a need to self-advertise their physical fitness or perhaps
it is due to a gay gene which triggers a sudden release of adrenaline
whenever a person hears sequined beats of disco.
A sign invited watchers to “Come out and play with us.”
Many members of the audience did. The Red Dot newspaper float
consisted of a dance floor that shimmied down the street. It accurately
depicted the parade’s theme through its headline: “Sexual
Revolution.” Both its float and the Comcast corporation’s,
provided live entertainment. One of them had encaged men in Speedo
bathing suits grinding their posteriors against the metal bars that
enclosed them. If Hollywood were recording the moment it would have
shown me taking my hat off and placing it over my heart as the gays
hip-hopped by.
The Chicago Hellfire Club was there with its mandatory leather men
looking for a bit of discipline and domination under an increasingly
hot sun. I’m sure many were disappointed that they were not
handing out flyers or business cards as they passed.
An “Undershorts Film Fest” float further decorated the
scene, with its female inhabitants wearing undies and pasties as part
of its display.
There was one rather ominous sighting, as a double-decker bus was
outfitted with flyers calling it “Osama West” and showcasing
a photo of Saddam and Osama in a tender, horizontal position on a
bed. What this means I will leave for the reader to interpret.
Fittingly, the Rocky Horror Picture Show and the Gina Lake “Drums
for Transgenders” were also there along with a “Drag King
Show and Party” procession.
The Chicago Gay Hockey Association had a float that proudly played
videos from their 9 to 1 trouncing of the Blackhawks [okay, I made
that one up, but, in such a case, “pride” would have been
legitimate].
A “Queers in Wonderland” group sauntered by and one of
their dressed up participants held a cardboard teacup which read “Property
is Theft” on it. I wish he was close enough for me to have asked
him if I could keep it as a souvenir. I wonder how he would have responded?
I suspect he would have said “no.”
Another benefactor of the parade was the Chicago Cultural Center,
and one of its marchers had a sign that read “The Chicago Cultural
Center Loves Opera Queens.” Indeed.
Just in case you were concerned, there really is a Gay and Lesbian
Hall of Fame but their car did not specify exactly whose names are
enshrined in their hallowed halls. I suppose that’s the marketing
ploy. Now you’ll just have to buy a ticket for yourself.
The police were an integral part of the parade. They were everywhere.
It was led by a legion of the city’s finest. They rode on four
wheelers, horses, bicycles, and unmarked squad cars. We as taxpayers
were truly generous with the gays as untold amounts of cash were sacrificed
in an attempt to ensure “tolerance” and “acceptance”
occurred one way or another. They needn’t have worried. I was
the only non-brainwashed person there.
This event was beyond safe. The entire time I saw no trace of protest
whatsoever. It appeared (at least from the vantage point I had) that
everyone at the event, including the police, were with the program.
Today it is the height of societal distinction to put on a thong and
act like a f---ing idiot in the middle of the street. It is the definition
of “pride” or what used to be called malignant narcissism.
I believe a couple of select universities will further validate the
participants by bestowing PhDs to the most radical performers.
Yes, even the floats had the imprimatur of authority as one of them
was sponsored by the Chicago Police Department. It contained over
twenty gay/lesbian officers. The majority of the female members were
very stereotypical looking lesbians and appeared to be on the losing
end of a serious street battle against obesity.
The police were just the beginning of the public agencies as the
parade was a thoroughly political affair. A great many parts of the
civic bureaucracy were “out.” I saw floats from the Chicago
Commission of Human Relations, the Chicago Transit Authority, and
the Chicago Department of Public Health. The Public Health one had
a brazen “We’re not your parent’s health department”
as its motto. I suppose this was stated to act as a warning and disclaimer
for their future clients. Their auto-barge displayed a Warholesque
picture of a nurse. It was repeated several times and in different
colors, so maybe they’ve gotten into the pop-art education business
as well.
The big story of the day in my mind is the way in which this parade
appears to be a Democratic Party consciousness raiser. No Democratic
politician seems capable of refusing to attend or at least sending
their minions in their stead. I had a “I’m a Jan Fan”
cardboard paddle given to me from a supporter of my Congresswoman,
Jan Schakowsky. Then my Governor, Rod Blagojevich, had his representatives
drive by, but I did not see him in the car itself.
Four of the local gay judges were flaunted and this made me very
happy that I was not making appearances anytime soon in a divorce
or custody court. The Illinois Secretary of State, Jessie White, also
had a float and two straight girls next to me commented about its
driver, “Look at him! Isn’t he delicious?” It reminded
me of the time my former gay neighbor told me about a girl who repeatedly
asked him out even though she knew that he was gay. He asked me why
she’d do that and I still have no answers for him.
Another politician, Dick Devine, was there with a six man security
detail.
Howard Dean, the biggest cheese of them all (if an online survey
is to be believed) was there. Well, at least in spirit he was present,
as nearly forty of his backers marched along waving signs like “04
Kick Bush Out the Door” and “Out 4 Howard Dean.”
I hope, for President Bush’s sake, Mr. Dean filmed the event
for his future commercials.
The Democratic message was ubiquitous. One placard read, “We
Democrats are Proud to Fight for Rights.” Great, what rights
are they missing? They did not say. Another sign commanded, “Stop
hate crimes, protect our families.” What families? Were they
including Jesse Dirkhising into the equation? He was the 13 year old
boy in Arkansas abducted, raped, and murdered by two
adult homosexuals. Would a hate crime like Dirkhising’s
be prosecuted?
Equality Illinois, a gay organization that regularly has tables set
up in the gayborhood to increase voter registration, was also part
of the parade. I saw references to the Lawrence decision
that legalized sodomy and possibly every other act under the sun in
a poster that announced “Justice at Last.” I was very
glad another demonstrator held up a card informing, “Discrimination
is Illegal” because if he hadn’t, in lieu of the Supreme
Court’s affirmative action decisions last week, I would have
never known.
Gary Chico, one of a zillion Democrats running for a US Senate seat,
had a banner promising “Pride, Diversity, Unity” although
it did not instruct how diversity and unity are not mutually exclusive.
The corporations were everywhere. It seems that corporate America
lusts to be as one with the gays. I suppose this is for a couple of
reasons. First, they could show everyone just how politically correct
they are and, second, the gays are known to be profligate spenders.
In anticipation of big third quarters, many sectors of the business
world had their logos on display. Alcohol and partying are a big part
of the gaystyle so Vox Vodka, Sauza Tequila, and Bacardi were present.
Various other corporations (Caribou Coffee, Jewel Osco, Wells Fargo,
Bank One, UR Chicago, SBC Ameritech, Edward Jones) were visible as
well.
Television was a forceful presence with WGN, ABC, NBC, CBS, and U
all taking part. One of their floats had a picture of a man and a
woman kissing but it had been defaced by the painting of a beard and
a moustache onto the woman’s face.
In one of the funnier “stereotypes are sometimes true”
moments, twenty lesbians drove by on motorcycles with their “ho’s
in tow” but were suddenly delayed due to a traffic backup. They
agitatedly began beeping their horns and attempted to nag the procession
into moving at a quicker rate. It’s the little things that make
the parade worthwhile.
Religion, believe it or not, was a huge part of the event. A plethora
of churches were represented. Shirts and placards everywhere documented
their involvement. I saw “Holy Trinity Lutheran Church, Broadway
Methodist Church, The Night Ministry, St. Paul’s United Church
of Christ, the Euclid Avenue Methodist Church, Good Shepard Parrish”
and even, much to my great surprise, “The Gay Baptists.”
There seems to be a great many gays worried about what’s going
to happen to them in the afterlife. Perhaps following actual church
doctrine would make them feel better, but maybe that’s just
my heterophilia asserting itself.
Thematically, the pride parade has always been a mass of contradictions.
On the one hand it is readily apparent that they, as a group, have
little of which to be proud– at least in the eyes of the common
man. Usually we try to hide the color of our underwear from public
purview and, when you work out everyday, that’s a very noble
act. Sexuality in itself is nothing of which to be proud. Work, achieve,
and learn. Now those are three things that foster legitimate pride.
Doing a bunch of people or dancing to really bad music is something
that should be kept to oneself. What next? A Fans of the Backstreet
Boys parade? Gosh, I hope not. The gays should keep their bad taste
and lifestyle to themselves. They have the right to do what they want
but why involve the public?
I believe that the real purpose of these gayflagrations is to display
to the world just how tolerated their subgroup actually is. This seems
to me a double edged sword. For now that everyone tolerates them we
should stop spending millions of dollars on parades and paraphernalia
for their neighborhoods. Their not pet kittens; they’re regular
citizens. The fact that not one protestor was present makes a lot
of their hysterical rhetoric, about how intolerant a place America
is, ring false. Further, there seems to be little reason to enact
hate crimes legislation when every politician in town queues up to
dance the cha-cha with them. Enough is enough. Homosexuals are yet
another privileged caste in our society. If they really want equality,
let’s stop kissing up to them and treat them just like everyone
else.
Bernard Chapin
From toogoodreports.com
Bernard Chapin
is a writer in Chicago.