Vignettes
CBC: “You’re glowing! I can feel it from here.”
Me: “Well, I didn’t get pregnant, that’s for sure.”
I’ve been hearing the same thing about glowing from everyone since I got back. I’m still carrying an infectious enthusiasm, which I hope doesn’t wear off or wash out soon. It’s a good feeling.
The weather broke last night. Today is clear, comfortable and not too breezy. A good day for drying clothes on the fire escape. Which makes it a good day to catch up on little things in between loads.
Heh. Monday at a 4th of July party, the hostess said to me, “Look at how clean your socks are!”
“Stay back,” I advised. “I own bleach and I know how to use it.” (And I separate by color and fabric.)
Coming home on the ferry, a girl who’d been to the convention remarked, “I’ve never seen so many white, advantaged people at a meeting.”
“But you have to remember,” I told her, “that the travel and hotel expenses alone are exclusionary. You have to have a certain amount of extra money to be able to afford to come here. And, you have to be able to get the time off from work and then there are the issues with crossing the border. Not everyone who wanted to be here could come.
“That’s also part of the the theme, ‘I am responsible.’ Part of your responsibility is to take the experience back to your home group.”
Gad, I’m beginning to sound like Mr. AA here, so I’ll stop.
Well, maybe not.
Did I mention how we sober fags and dykes took over Church Street? Even on Sunday afternoon, after the closing ceremony that morning and when most people were heading to the airport, train station or highway, over half the people for Sunday bruch at Zelda’s were from the program.
The food is really cheap, so she must make the profit on the bar tab. Except this past weekend. Poor Zelda. But then again, I’m quite sure the booze was flowing strong and steady during Pride weekend the week before.
My higher power saw to it that I wasn’t in Toronto as a sex tourist. Thus, I saved some money by not having a lap dance (or seven) at Remingtons or going the to little rentboy bar, Sneakers. Still, at the table at Sunday brunch I found myself facing the entrance to Steamworks, watching the guys come and go (Don’t get any ideas. Note the spelling of come.) while thinking, I haven’t been to a bathhouse in years.
I’d picked-up the current issue of Fab (Cover story: Pride is Ovah!) and was leafing through it last night. Interesting finds included several quite respectable looking quarter-page ads looking for porn stars. One of which set an upper age limit of 46. Damn, I thought. Missed by two years.
Regular columns include Twink by a kid who looks barely old enough to hold his crayon by himself, Troll by someone at the opposite end of the spectrum, and Trade, who sadly, had the week off. No doubt after cashing-in on Pride.
Oh, on Thursday when I was rushing to get to Willie’s, I said hello to a black woman also walking from the streetcar stop. In a delightful West African accent, she launched into a litany about how she should have stayed in Africa where the heat is dry and doesn’t get right under your skin and where there are plenty of cool lakes and no pollution getting stuck to your insides.
Did I mention how hot and sticky it was that day?
Friday night we didn’t make it to the fireworks. It turned cold—like under 70 (20C). The four of us, Willie, his two friends (a Cuban and a Columbian) and I froze while eating dinner on the sidewalk at an otherwise fantastic Italian on St. Claire West near where Willie works. After ice cream at La Paloma, a mistake, tasty, but a mistake given we were already cold, we took a cab back to Willie’s place.
Getting my hair done on Sunday, I remarked to Louise Marie that she looked ten years younger that when I last saw her. She attributed it to reduced stress now that she has a reliable web hosting service. We’re thinking of turning that into an ad campaign or slogan. “Take ten years off your face. Host your web site at The Secret Labs!”
Okay. Laundry’s all washed and hung out. I’m going to make the best of my last day of vacation by taking a nap.
