|Related Articles: LGBT, All|
Riding Six White Horses
With summer seemingly officially upon us, I spent a good part of my weekend dusting off my "clothing normally inappropriate for a San Francisco day" trunk and reminisced over what June has meant in San Francisco for the past half-decade. It normally triggers the resurgence of the Eagle Beer Bust, the return of the ever-stereotypical mesh tank, and the kick-off for the annual Gay Pride celebration, proving that Modesto has proud fags, too. They just like their vacations set almost entirely to a soundtrack of obnoxious house music and Crystal Waters throwbacks. Get ready fags, Pride is heading down the pass. So I dusted of my daisy dukes and my carnation-pink pants and got ready for the days ahead.
All around town, throughout the weekend and extending into the week, the breath of summer rebirth was pulsating through the people on the streets. In the bars and clubs, the standing room was becoming scant. Even at the MUMC meeting, you could tell the merchants where gearing up for the hectic, frenzied events about to transpire. It was the initial communication of the planning that has been underway for months. The advent of gay marriage has made the upcoming summer events most likely the highest attended in history, leading to an ensuing chaos that must be whelmed, lest it become overwhelming.
My most exciting June moment is sure to be the release of the Vickie Marlene documentary during the annual Frameline Film festival. The long time coming documentary is the biopic of a lifetime career in drag performance and trans-gendered activism that spans 59 years, quite impressive for a lifestyle so oppressive it is known to gobble up its stars. Between AIDS and drug use, trannies have a notoriously rough go at life. That may be why I revere them so much.
However, letís get back to the present. After many weeks of delinquency, I headed to Moneyshot Mondays at the Jet Bar to follow up with the post launch attendance and vibe. It was surprisingly well attended for a Monday event, and featured a twist on the normal gay bar competition with a Marathon Makeout contest. The winners, a couple of neo-emo hipsters with tragic hair and too many accessories, may have been able to share a breath longer than a Fallout Boy track, but that was really no reason to be dressed like a bad MTV boy-rock band member.
I was kinda queasy about the whole thing, but in support of the Herrera brothers I will always do my part, and do their poppers.
In addition to getting grossed out by a makeout competition, I had the rare delight of catching up with my friends at Honey Soundsystem before they took off for their European Tour. The boys threw a going away party that was simultaneously hard to remember and forget, as it went on until the morning hours the following day. The DJ's sets were epic, making the boys and girls go crazy throughout. The later it got, the more I thought that this was the perfect European tour ďbon voyage". Dancing throughout the night is so Berlin, and that is exactly where they are headed.
While I was dancing the night away, others watched in amazement as the ever elusive Jonathan Solo made his performance debut at the Trannyshack. But, after years of being begged by the likes of Kiddie More!, Heklina, Peaches Christ and Putanesca, who finally wooed the artist into the center ring? And which annoyingly ever-present wannabe drag queen got cast to perform in a party that seems more and more tragic upon its approach? And what are the Sisters giving out this year instead of cash prizes as they resurrect their annual Bingo! bedlam? Well, trust me itís not that exciting, but still a bit scandalous. And, as always, I heard in confidence and I never break a pinkyswear.