WHEN GAY PRIDE DAY WAS MY FAVORITE HOLIDAY

Throughout the 80s, there was one day every year that was filled with nothing but love and friendship.  I usually spent it on Phoebe Zeeman's roof which was the best party in town.  We would play music and Phoebe would supply endless amounts of food and we'd have cocktails and laugh and hug and celebrate a day meant for our beloved friends.  

MY LAST GAY PRIDE DAY

Over time, we lost many, at first rapidly.  And then a slow trickle until those with HIV no longer automatically became symptomatic.  It was a hard loss that felt intimate, as it seemed as if it was only happening to those we loved.  Afternoons spent in the sun drinking wine were replaced by visits to the hospital.  Parties were replaced by memorial services.

During that time, I slowly became more involved with my work and eventually married and became more and more a member of the straight world.  No longer was Wigstock in my backyard.  Gay Pride parades were less attended.  No more sunday night gay parties at the clubs.

I kept all my friendships which only grew stronger over time, especially as the numbers had diminished to a precious clan of those of us who had lived through the silent war.  Daily conversations were replaced by weekly, by monthly, sometimes by yearly, without skipping a beat.

In the early 2000s my husband and I started a non-gender bath and body line, and naturally, our launch party was at Beige - Eric Conrad and Edwige Belmore's Tuesday night party.  During that time, more friendships were forged with gay men and women, and for a short period of a few years, their numbers swelled in my phone book.  The party was back. Sunday nights were spent at Lincoln's, where a group of us had dinner and watched Sex in the City.  I was often the in house chef, and loved serving food to a room of happy campers.  My friend Boden was chief in charge of taking me out to the clubs when my husband knew I needed a night of dancing with the boys.  Steph became the brother I had sorely missed.  Until he one day returned home to Berlin when his modeling contracts ran out.

That time ended as adulthood once again pulled us all away into our various relationships and responsibilities.

I remember Gay Pride Day every year as it seems to fall right around the weekend of my husband's birthday.  The day is often spent with family and birthday cakes, once again another year no longer spent at the joyous parade, or Phoebe's roof, having the love fest that we once all so adored.  

It's been many years since we celebrated together, a happy family of artists and writers, designers and photographers, misfits and miscreants.  It is still my favorite holiday.

IN MEMORIAM. [2 of the many friends lost to AIDS.  I miss them still.]

SCOTT MACPHEE

HAOUI MONTAUG

THE SKY IS WIDE OPEN

People are flying again.

It was inevitable, that we'd all finally get so sick of staying indoors, that we'd fly anywhere.  Some states are still on lockdown, or at least relatively so, and some countries still have mandatory 2 week lockdown for all visitors, but masks on, some wearing gloves, planes are filling up with anxious flyers, desperate to see something besides their own 4 walls.

Who can blame them.  The sky is wide open...