Well today is Wednesday and it’s certainly been one of those days. But first of course, last night. Bill was so sad. Dealing with his mother’s health and his cousin’s husband’s idiocy and lack of compassion which is only practiced on Sundays in that household it seems.
I did my best to help Bill. Just being there for him is enough I guess. He packed up his clothes as well as various items he might need and got them ready to bring with him to work, and then to Stuyvesant Town. I helped him with his bags this morning, taking a later bus and carrying one of his bags to his office on my way to work.
While Bill and I were talking, Harpy called. Bad news for Harpy, he’s been laid off. They gave him two weeks notice. It sucks but he’ll make some dosh working at Farfetched which in itself might be on thin ice financially. I don’t even know if they’ll need me this holiday season. It would be nice, but perfectly understandable if that doesn’t work out.
I got to the office this morning which was under construction. Everything was out of place or all over the place. Not my ideal place to walk into. After about an hour I decided to go out and run some errands which I usually do later in the day. Also got my shoes shined since I wanted to look good for the demonstration tonight. I heard you get points for your appearance.
Vivek returned from India with a deal made and him telling me that I will have a job until March 2010 so I guess I should say ‘thanks but no thanks’ to the application for the Obama/Biden administration. I requested one as a lark when visiting Obama’s website to tell them my story last week.
I stayed later than usual at the office since I had plans to make it to the No on Prop h8 demonstration outside the mormon temple at 65th Street and Columbus Avenue. Things had calmed down considerably in the office by then and I sat at my desk making a sign and playing Erik Satie, Gymnopédies – 1. Lent Et Douloureux which is nice and relaxing and perfect for making signs.
I made my way across town listening to Gang of Four to psych myself up with some agit-pop. Also stopped in De La Concha cigars and treated myself to a nice cigar, a La Flor Dominicana Double Ligero.
I was in a pretty good mood and looked good as well. You don’t see too many guys in suits and ties at political demonstrations. I followed the crowds walking up Broadway to the meeting place and unfolded my sign and chanted and yelled with everyone else.
We were on both side of Columbus Avenue, I was penned in, in front of the temple telling them what we wanted and when we wanted it. Equal Rights! Now! Not special rights mind you, equal rights like all married couples. There was a larger group across the street penned in a traffic island shouting the same things. Tax This Church!
Somehow, we got permission from the police to march down Broadway. They stopped traffic as thousands of us marched and yelled and cheered. Some people joined us from the sidewalk as we marched.
I caught up with Andres, a fellow blogger who writes Blabbeando which is in the sesame seed blogroll. After chatting online for a while, we finally met. Nice guy he is. Knows many people. Kept running off to say hello to this one or that one.
After marching to Columbus Circle, it all seemed to peter out. Andres was heading back to Queens, me to Hoboken. We made tentative plans to have dinner sometime. My cigar extinguished while marching in the crowd. Didn’t want to bother anyone with the smoke, nor did I want to hear any complaining about it.
I lit up again after crossing Central Park South and smoked it, taking my time walking down Eighth Avenue, passing dozens of police cars on stand by, perhaps ready to bust some heads should something go wrong. It was a boisterous crowd so rioting was unlikely to happen with the police, stoic and sitting in their cars.
A few blocks south of that, a few police vans and squad cars were zooming up Eighth Avenue lights and sirens a blazing. I made it to the bus, got a seat and continued reading The Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein.
Bill at his mother’s still cleaning and shredding and working his way through his anger for his cousin’s husband. Who knows how long he’ll be in Stuyvesant Town? It’s good to be home, but it would be better if he were here or with me at the demonstration.
There’s something to be said about marching with thousands of people, gay and straight for equal rights. Also a good reminder that gay people come in all shapes and sizes. The cookie cutter image of gay people is so last century…..