Weekend bonus shot, 06.27.10 (quickie Pride edition)

[Ed note: These are in color, since LGBT Pride is inherently colorful. Also: more is likely to come later, along with a few notes on the day. But one had to at least share a few gay families at the Pride Parade images ASAP. Especially given what’s “P,” or possible, these days.  Which is not as much as one would like. Last week’s deathly quiet here attested to this eloquently. Worry not (I say to myself as much as anyone else listening)! That which is keeping me entangled and away from ye olde blog now is actually the pavement for its more turbo-powered, unfettered movement in the future. As Steve Jobs said to disgruntled iPhone 4 users: “Stay tuned.”]


The young kid at Pride image. I.e., asleep in the stroller. A far more photogenic version of this image was being pulled nearby us much of the way: kid in red wagon, shaded by a green froggie umbrella, and accessorized with a dozen or so stuffed animals. Big hit.  Also, kid asleep the whole time.

Snoozing kids. Pride just wouldn’t be Pride without ’em.


Our lil’ monkey’s sign: her first. Thought it up and created it utterly independently. Then, after showing it to me, said: “I have to take this to Pride.” Times they are a growin’ up.  The sign reads: “Peac + love will end oll suffrig.” Or, for the rest of us, “Peace + love will end all suffering.”

Now who’s gonna say these kids don’t have a helluva lot of good stuff they’re fixin’ on giving the world as they grow up? I direct all skeptics to Dr. Gartrell’s recently released and much-attended to longitudinal study of our kids, whose many results included the perhaps not-so-surprising conclusion that our kids wind up being more well-adjusted than average.  I’d say keeping your eye on justice and your mind on love does good things for your overall adjustment factor. At least anecdotally speaking.


And here we go. Kids leading the family contingent in the parade. Behind them, Our Family Coalition, COLAGE, and our blocks-long, balloon-bedecked brigade, enjoying the toe-tapping sound of the Australian Youth Band in front of us. Pride wouldn’t be Pride without marching band versions of Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive.”  (Here’s a list of the other 177 some-odd contingents who were marching.)

Wherever yours was, I hope it was the best Pride ever!

Weekend bonus shot, 06.20.10


School’s out ice cream, Albany, CA.

Last year, when the girlie graduated preschool, we came here for a scoop. The place never loses its allure. Or invests in other than Wal-Mart plastic lawn chairs. Or scrubs behind the counter. Or updates the vintage 1980s arcade video games (two of ’em, which I suspect draws at least 50% of the customers, who trickle in at a rate of one or two per hour, tops).

Much to say about the transcendent first year of elementary school, hopefully also the heaven-sent Kindergarten teacher who reached out her hand and guided our girl through it. But this is BABA’S DAY in our family! So I must off to being fêted (and, at the end of the day, to fêing me Pops).

Here’s a link to my timeless BABA’S DAY PROCLAMATION to catch up you newcomers.  To one and all: may the love flow in every direction, today as every day.

Moment of realness

A quick sketch of the complexity of people.

The boychild and I were at a stationary supply store this morning, getting the nicest congratulations on completing Kindergarten/ congratulations on starting preschool gifties I know to give these kids: spiffy little hardback notebooks and fresh felt-tipped pens with which to fill them. Per usual, the boychild is in a dress. Today, it’s an especially pretty one, since it’s the last day of school for the big sister and he wanted to be fancy for the school’s Friday morning community meeting. It’s got an empire style cut, with forest green velvet on top and white organdy below, layered over a built-in slip dealie. Twirls nicely. Over it he’s wearing a plaid shirt-jacket, under it, striped cotton tights. All per his request.

Other relevant matters: in the past month or so, perhaps because he’s bigger, perhaps just because, our son has drawn more and more attention from kids around him,ranging from stares to snickers to derision.  These kids are all either a little or somewhat older than him, since kids his age continue to either not notice or not care much.  We’re at the point that I pretty much have my feelers out the whole time we’re in public, and anticipate some management/intervention/dialog of some sort with other kids.

Read moreMoment of realness

Yer daily dose of Kate: From the Courthouse

As you know, from time to time I can’t resist passing along to you, whole cloth, the emails I get in my inbox from folks like Kate Kendell.  So, here’s her missive summing up yesterday’s historic closing arguments in the Prop 8 trial, and NCLR’s coverage of it. You can find this whole thing also on her blog at NCLR, Out for Justice. I wasn’t able to be outside the courtroom or at the press conference afterward, and was only able to piece together events of the day toward the close of it, via her (and a raft of other smart people’s) live Tweets. Very compelling stuff.  (Some gems of hers here, here, and here. “SO” being short for “sexual orientation.” And Cooper’s the pro-Prop 8 attorney, by the way. Not his finest day in court, by all accounts. Nic Nolte baked out of his brains and his hair straggling in 360 directions — picture the mug shot! — would probably have done a better job. Not like I’m complaining.)

My favorite, probably, among so much news of that day: both Boies and Olson said, in the press conference afterward, that this has been “the most important case of their lives.”  Yes, that Boies and Olson. The they fought over who got to be the 43rd President of the United States Boies and Olson.

Many have said — history has shown — that the brilliance of the reasoning on behalf of justice is not what determines whether and when it is administered. True enough. But damn, it’s nice to hear how hammer-loud and how clarion-clear its bell was rung yesterday.

Dear LD,

Read moreYer daily dose of Kate: From the Courthouse