Dykes Rock: Part II
To complement Violet’s photos, here’s a photoset view from above. On a rooftop at 18th & Guerrero. Inaugurating my absolute fav moment of the Pink Weekend, those sanctity-of-marriage destroyin’ Dykes on Bikes throttled their decible-tickling, tricked-out wheels down the streets of The Mission. Paving the way for a full hour of Lesbian Runway Action. This Saturday’s Dyke March was especially exhilarating for me. Banner overhead, I was continually blown away with the unguarded looks of sheer joy from the girls below. It was much of an ego boost for me as it was for them, let me tell ya. Women of every age range and demographic looked up with such disarming and grateful exhuberance. Surveying the upturned smiles, it appeared as if many were not local – and thus slightly giddy that an entire city would devote such unbridled enthusiasm for who they really are. I was humbled. And heartened. It’s easy to be jaded and therefore unplugged about Gay Pride here in SF. (Since, as my brother loves to sarcastically bellow: “Every week is frickin’ Gay Pride Week in San Francisco!”) True enough. But seeing your everday life mirrored through the eyes of people from around the world who view this place as a safe harbor – and have travelled all this way to exhale – that’s something that instantly removes my posturing armor and makes me see my hometown affectionately afresh. I had a blast.