Part I:The LOST Pride Saga!
By Nevin Jefferson
The only thing that can keep me away from the Pride Parade is illness or death. When I was in failing health, I went 4 years without a Pride refill. Prior to this, I had participated in the past 5 parades with pride. This year, the Saturday before Pride week (June 22, 2002) I had the misfortune of meeting some thrill seeking sadistic motorist cutting me off, slamming on the brakes, then, flipping me off. I had the hand of God shielding me while bouncing off cement barriers on the left side of 405 South. Bouncing off a pickup truck, and coming to a halt by hitting the cement barrier on the right of the highway. I was banged, bruised, and swollen while getting gassed by the air bag that had hit me in the chest and knee. All and all, it was a reality roller coaster ride combined with the feeling of being inside of a pinball machine.
Yours truly had said his prayers and prepared to meet his maker. However, a small voice inside me said: "You didn't die from AIDS and you're not dying in a car accident. You have next week's Saga to do and four A.D.P.A.'s to do for Gaypride.com. Your novel isn't done! And you have too many people depending on you." I replied: "Father I thank you!"
I didn't look good mingled with broken glass and car parts, so I refused to exit the earth this way. It's been done before and I plan to go out in flames with a big explosion following it. The body took a beating but the tiara stayed in place - along with my hair. I was spared to make my comeback appearance in this year's Pride festivities and I welcomed it with open arms. I took a front row seat with my popcorn and waited patiently to be entertained by life's comedy of errors. With my lumbar area out of commission and voicing its pain, I was banged, bruised, swollen, and car-less. I needed a chariot for the 'Fairy Ball.'
Act One, Scene Whatever: A brave person answered my personal ad and was dying to meet me. I'm a lot of person to deal with and I overwhelm men and scare them away. So, I put a suitor to the test by arranging a date that's day filled into evening so I can let him embrace me full-scale blast. If he can spend a day with me and not run off screaming, the man passed the test. At the same time, I want to meet someone who shares my interests and partakes in the things that I do. He agreed to do exactly this and couldn't wait to meet me. I prayed for him because, when dealing with me, a person needs all of the help that they can get and then some.
Of course, my date got lost and I got a call from work about a problem that only I know how to resolve. If it wasn't my sexy, happening, female friend on the other end of the line I would have played dumb. We were late to the parade and missed the cars carrying the Seattle Gay News staff and friends. Always being someone with a backup plan, I asked for the Lifelong Aids Alliance lineup. They were long gone too! I saw Mark Finley and asked the dear Queen if I could ride with her? It was Ma Finley to the rescue and I thank her for getting me in with KJR FM and the Disco Experience. The plan was to dance down the street, pass out parade goodies, and have a good time. My back was out and I was holding up due in large part to the pain medication and muscle relaxer I had been prescribed. Walking wasn't something that I should be doing, especially in a parade. Which is why I wanted to ride in the car with dear old Ma.
My shy, quiet, introverted date made the remark that somebody should teach Mark Finley how to put on lipstick. She needs to use her good eye while doing this beauty task, he said. And this is from the man who found me too extroverted for our personalities to match. He also doesn't dance! I told him to just stand there while I made the two of us look good. It was at this point when my date became sick to his stomach! Heidi was in charge of this entry, which consisted of a truck playing Disco music. She gave me thumbs up later during the parade as I bogeyed down!
Before things got started, I was greeted by members of the religious-wrong talking out of their asses. It was at this time that my date asked a member the Parade Patrol if it would be okay if he flipped them off? The nice Parade Patrol person advised my date not to confront them. Seattle's finest was also on the case and asked us not to provoke anything. He looked at me and pleaded with me not to do anything. My reputation still precedes me!
Always the class act, I faced the bozos. Then, I showed them the front of my T-shirt. Which read; "T.G.I.F" with a crown of thorns resting on the letters and words "THANK GOD I'M FORGIVEN!" written underneath it. John 1:10 brought the message alive while bringing out its true meaning. The brainwashed twits repeated hatred before someone else told them shut up. The crowd applauded and I made my way into the parade.
Later, on the news, it was reported that the newest threat to Gays was the Christian movement. I made the news - T-shirt and all - with my church family calling me to tell me that they saw my date and me on the news. Later on, my date freaked when he found out about this and politely dumped me. Oh well, at least he fed me!
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