So here we are, kittens, with the 2009 Pride edition of _QSaltLake_. Because this edition reaches our largest audience of the year, my dark overlord editors have decreed that I have to play nice. That means no ripping on closeted politicians cruising on Craigslist. No mentioning of wealthy gay patrons with their mail order boy brides, and definitely no tawdry tales of gravity-defying group sex in hotels near the airport (you know who you are, and you should be ashamed … and NO! that is not an appropriate use for an ice bucket and a shower cap). But I digress.
As we celebrate Gay Pride, I just have to look back at what a hell of a year it has been. The national elections were exhilarating but exhausting, and once President Obama gets little things like the imploding economy, national security, global warming and healthcare issues under control, I hope he has still has some time and energy left to address some DOMA, DADT, and anti-gay discrimination concerns for us.
The Prop. 8 debacle in California and its local aftermath was exciting, mind-numbing and terrifying at the same time. The 2009 Utah Legislative Session was a minefield of political payback from the conservative culture warriors (seriously, one completely legal and peaceful gay rally around the Salt Lake Temple block and you’re ready to rebuild and repurpose the Topaz prison camps? What’s that about?). Governor Jon Huntsman surprised many when he came out in support of gay civil unions, and a rational conversation with Utah’s gays and lesbians, and what happens? He promptly gets exiled to China. Damn, those Utah County Eagle Forum operatives have some clout!
Speaking of the “shrinking but getting angrier” GOP tent, is anyone else feeling seriously uneasy about soon-to-be Governor Gary Herbert? Without Huntsman to moderate the right wing extremists in the legislature, it’s only a matter of time until the Utah County inmates are totally running the asylum (as if they weren’t already — nod, nod, wink, wink). And mark my words petals, it’s only a matter of time until Miss California Jello-Boobs, Carrie Prejean ends up being a keynote speaker at the Governor Conference on the Family. Uugghh, don’t get me started.
Anyway pumpkins, I want to espouse a conspiracy theory about our political struggle for recognition, and it goes something like this: I believe Gay Pride will never find mainstream support until we have a signature cocktail. There, I’ve said it. The only thing holding us back from marriage equality, equal protections under the law, and the full panoply of federal benefits, is our utter lack of a marketable libation that heterosexual binge drinkers can relate to, celebrate and overconsume.
Think about it, cherubs. Saint Patrick’s Day has pints and pints of green beer (or any beer, really). Mardi Gras has the Hurricane. Cinco de Mayo has margaritas and beer with lime wedgies, and what does Gay Pride have? Nada, zip, Liquid Nothingness. Sure we have commercial liquor distributors and vendors up the wazoo at our Pride Festivals and Parades (and yes, we do love them and their financial support dearly), but it’s not the same. I admit, niche demographics like Asian BDSM aficionados can celebrate Pride with a “Singapore Sling,” or drag queens can always sip “Stilletos” and “Silk Stockings,” and I guess lesbians can always order “Clam Diggers,” but where is the one-size-fits-most uber-cocktail designed to promote heterosexual bonding and empathy with our Rainbow clan? I’m not sure what that elusive cocktail is, but I think the main ingredients would have to be something fruity and involve tea bags. And it wouldn’t hurt if the garnish looks like a Carmen Miranda head-dress and the rim of the glass was dipped in granulated poppers, Viagra, and sugar. I’m just saying …
Now I know what you’re thinking: “Ruby, Martin Luther King, Jr. and the black civil rights movement didn’t have a signature cocktail and they still gave us Civil Rights Day.” Which is absolutely true darlings, but I’m fairly positive that’s only to compensate for the Mike Huckabee-voting Rednecks drinking “Southern Comfort” and celebrating Dr. King’s assassination for the other 364 days of the year. So it’s a trade-off when you really think about it.
Anyway, my proud little Marys, have a great time at Pride and think of me as you slurp down your cocktail or non-alcoholic beverage of choice. Oh, and remember your sun block.
You can see Ruby Ridge performing live, in all of her politically incorrect polyester glory every third Friday of the month at Third Friday Bingo (First Baptist Church, 777 S 1300 E in Salt Lake City), or see her schedule at thirdfridaybingo.com.