Pride

We watched the SF Pride parade on television this year, something that has never occurred to me to do. Cory and Joel arranged for a very Prideful pot-luck Sunday afternoon, festooning the apartment with rainbow everything. We drank mimosas and ate cake, while hummingbirds buzzed and dive-bombed the balcony, beguiled by the colorful decorations.

Late in the parade coverage, a spirited young lesbian shook her baby with pom-pom enthusiasm at the television cameras. "Whooooo!" she screamed. "Happy Pride everybody!" I could hear the baby's brain rattling like birdshot in a beer can. If the woman had a lanyard, that baby would have been swinging around over her head, in raver glowstick fashion.

That is one well-shaken baby, I thought, but didn't say aloud, because I know how my friends dislike hearing that sort of thing. They're sensitive.