I’m feeling old and crotchety after a month of Pride. Maybe its because I have been doing Pride for more than three decades and it is not as bright and shiny as it used to be. Maybe its because now that I am older and sicker, 30 days is a long time to do all things rainbow. Maybe its that I have had an unrelenting headache for nine months now. Whatever it is, I just want us all to shut up and fuck now. I am thrilled there are several new generations of queer activists up in a

It’s Pride month again. This is the second year pride comes when I have a male partner and we are exclusive. This makes pride events strained, at best, for me. Biphobia still permeates the queer community. I am treated like an interloper by queer folks who don’t know me. They assume I am some cis- hetero- interloper coming to watch “their” event. Part of the problem is gay spaces have been invaded by hetero- folks. Few gay clubs have not been taken over by a drunk bachelorett

Its June, which means its Gay Pride Month (or LGBT Pride, or LGBTQAAI Month, or whatever). Most cities, large and small, have some recognition of the month with a parade or festival of some kind. This year (as with many of the past several years) I will be avoiding these celebrations. This has nothing to do with the fact that my partner is now a man. I still identify very strongly as a queer person. It is not because I think gay folks have now achieved equality and liberation