I Love a Parade...Sometimes

Pride Season kicked off with the Long Beach festival this past weekend. We didn't go the festival itself -- though it would have been fun to see A Flock of Seagulls Saturday night. Instead, at 10AM we dragged out tired selves to the parade on Sunday, finding choice space to settle into our seats. Caesar had the genius idea to buy some lawn chairs just for the occasion which made it much nicer than sitting on the hard concrete curb. But we were outdone by the group next to us who hauled out mismatched wooden chairs, a table, and a pitcher of mimosas to enjoy the festivities.

Clark joined us about 30 minutes later, just as the Dykes on Bikes began their loud caravan down Ocean toward the festival grounds. The group seems to grow each year, and this time featured a few male bikers -- though they rode at the back of the pack. After the last bike zoomed down the street, we waited. Parade goers skateboarded and walked across the parade route, a few bicycles passed by, more people stepped into the street to see if and when the next unit was to come. And after 10 minutes, the horses arrived, with their riders carrying banners and flags. Then, another 5-10 minutes of waiting for the next group. Then, four or five groups cheered and waved banners and tossed candy and beaded necklaces at the crowd. The first of many groups to thump along to Lady Gaga walked along, followed by a group carrying a gigantic Pride flag into which we threw money for the Food Bank.

The entire three hours passed in much the same way, with a flurry of groups with pounding music and cheering followed by minutes of nothing then a car with someone waving to the crowd but no sign or name on the car to let us know who it was so we halfheartedly waved back. Very disorganized, if you ask me.

We sat through it, cheering our friend Chan riding the back of a fire engine and our landlords coasting by in their classic car (with their dog Buster in the backseat). In spite of the time waiting, we still had a great time, seeing Chico's Angels, some of the contestants from RuPaul's Darg Race, even having young men in nothing but hot pink speedos offering us condoms. Everyone applauded everything and filled the air with a happy sound.

And, rather than fight the crowds at the festival grounds (and fork over $20 to see nothing but shirt vendors, food peddlers and the HRC bombarding us at every turn), we opted for a nice quiet Sunday brunch at Mimi's, far from the noise and the boys.