I can't help but notice situational irony; Whitney Houston's is not a life that shouts, "Gay pride!" This is someone who buried evidence of her own lesbian relationship--severed contact with her girlfriend--then died alone in misery. So I'm surprised, at the North Jersey Pride Festival, to hear someone attempting these lines:
Somebody WHO!
Somebody WHO!
Somebody who LOVES me... yeah!
One sad heckler stands on a curb and speaks about God and Satan. "You think you can do anything you choose....But remember you will die....And you will be judged...."
My daughter looks at me in distress. "I don't want to die," she says.
Fortunately, a weary dad wanders past at this moment; he raises a fist to the heavens and shouts, "SATAN! SATAN!" I immediately join him. "Yay, Satan!"
By this point, my daughter has (inexplicably) removed one of her sandals. She has also dropped her "merch"--a small Lego action figure designed to resemble Glinda the Good Witch. (Price: Eight dollars.) A good-humored drag queen retrieves the Glinda merch for me--then offers free candy to my daughter. This is the sort of person I'd like to have a coffee with. (Yay, Satan!)
"You won't die for a very long time," I say, and my daughter seems to hear this. We have lingered for twenty minutes; we have done our civic duty. It's time for air-conditioning and pizza.
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