When there is a landmark court case for gay rights, the City breaks into a rave, generally. But, when TWO landmark decisions come in one day...well, that's when Muni stops even trying to travel through the Castro.
This is what the street looked like around 7:00PM yesterday, the ecstatic funeral of DOMA and of Prop 8. One friend was photographed by a news crew in a wedding dress as he walked down market, an "Equality Now" sign in the background. Another walked down Castro street randomly hugging strangers. The atmosphere of communality was pervasive. In fact, as I waited for a bus to take me to the Castro, I found myself in a group of happy travelers with a similar wait, all updating one another on the Google maps arrival time status, all smiling, and someone actually said, "well it may take us a while to get there, but we'll get there, and we'll have each other along the way." I'm starting to understand how "gay" and "happy" are truly synonymous.
Perhaps the best part of this eruption of joviality was the newbie gays: boys and girls recently transplanted to San Francisco for work or play or desperation and had no idea what kind of party they were joining, who all wore bright-eyed wonder smattered on their faces at the sight of their new San Francisco Reality.
It's going to be a hell of a Pride weekend.
This is what the street looked like around 7:00PM yesterday, the ecstatic funeral of DOMA and of Prop 8. One friend was photographed by a news crew in a wedding dress as he walked down market, an "Equality Now" sign in the background. Another walked down Castro street randomly hugging strangers. The atmosphere of communality was pervasive. In fact, as I waited for a bus to take me to the Castro, I found myself in a group of happy travelers with a similar wait, all updating one another on the Google maps arrival time status, all smiling, and someone actually said, "well it may take us a while to get there, but we'll get there, and we'll have each other along the way." I'm starting to understand how "gay" and "happy" are truly synonymous.
Perhaps the best part of this eruption of joviality was the newbie gays: boys and girls recently transplanted to San Francisco for work or play or desperation and had no idea what kind of party they were joining, who all wore bright-eyed wonder smattered on their faces at the sight of their new San Francisco Reality.
It's going to be a hell of a Pride weekend.
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