Well, my friends, time has certainly flown by. It’s already June. Which means… Pride, Pride, Pride. And the bigger your wallet is, the prouder you are.
If there is one thing the recession can’t touch, it’s the big, juicy, gay Pride dollar, 10 inches flaccid.
I know that there will be just as many of you crazy kidz paying $100 covers and drinking $8 tap water. That’s not even mentioning the colonics, the tanning, the haircuts, the hair dyes, maybe even a couple facelifts for good measure.
Like a new-age cock fight, fat bald executives are watching from bleachers, betting in, rubbing their hands together with rainbow dollar signs in their eyes.
Okay, so you get the picture. I think it’s pretty obvious there weren’t as many banks or technology companies sponsoring Pride in the ’80s.
But as two-faced as it is, it is also a good thing. Even though Pride is becoming less and less about gay rights and liberation and is more like a big, high-school party at someone’s mom’s house at least it means we’ve made it. Now we’re one of the cool kids.
I feel every Pride has been a good Pride — except for the fact I cannot remember any of them! By Canada Day I am scratching my head asking myself “What did I do last week?” My condo ends up looking like the trailer of The Hangover or Whitney Houston’s sink (Tinyurl.com/whsink).
This year, however, Twitter will help me keep a little bit of a diary, albeit an abbreviated one. Now, when I look over my tweets the following week and see “It’s 6am and I’m getting crunk with Mahogany Brown and Colt 40 in the alley behind the liquor store” or “I think Toni Braxton just tried to offer a me a joint” or “7-eleven purple Slurpies make great purple Jesuses” I will know exactly what I did that week. And I will know why my liver is suing me.
Straight-edge friends are also good for Pride recollections. For those of you who don’t know, straight edge is a society of mostly younger, tattooed kids who don’t drink or do drugs. And no, they aren’t from the moon. You can find them at your local Myspace profile or littered like ink-stained constellations in the Opera House during hardcore shows. My straight-edge (or gay-edge) friend Marc Smith is helpful for this. On my birthday he was the only one who remembered I got in a cake fight at the Social or that I hit my boyfriend over the head with a cheeseburger. I think that alone deserves a fan page. He doesn’t know it yet, but the last week in June he will be the designated driver for my life.
Having said that, we still have a little bit of time before the Pride bug bites us.
There are still a couple cool jams to hit up before then.
Unless you’ve been living under a rock, I am sure you know that the village is starting to switch gears musically. I always say that mainstream gays are either the first or last to catch on to a musical movement. With house music we were the first; with electro and all of its subgenres we were the last. Nevertheless it’s here, and before you start petitioning to city hall or filing noise complaints because you can’t water your garden at 2am in peace, at least give it a good try. Bill Cosby did with hip hop, you should too with electro.
Shane Percy’s new Electropop night Future Disco is a biggie and goodie. Launching Fri, Jun 12, it will be Fly’s only true salute to the genre since 2007. And with its focus on the poppier side of the format, you can expect just about everyone and their Facebook friends biting into this one. Shane Percy is the man. This guy only throws a party when he knows it’s going to be worth it — after all he created Grapefruit, arguably Fly’s most popular monthly. Word. DJs Shane Percy, Aural and a performance by Donnarama ($10; 8 Gloucester St).
Meanwhile in Randomland at Circa ($15; 126 John St) on Fri, Jun 5 Tiga is tearing up the dancefloor. I’m sure you’ve all heard his colossal hit “You’re Going to Want Me” which played on every radio station, club and car commercial for two years nonstop. His latest album Ciao is a collection of the delicious electro-pop house he is famous for worldwide.
The first single “Shoes” tells a story of a sleazy business man/reporter who is making moves on a supermodel he is interviewing; she isn’t feeling it. He describes the song as “imagining a horrifying dystopia where people other than myself are being interviewed” (Tinyurl.com/tigashoesvideo). Okay, I’ll just admit it: If I had to make a list of DJs who are husband potential, Tiga would come up on the top, so to speak. He’s French, hot, funny, modest and talented, so like Lindsay Lohan trying to get Seth Rogan to return her calls. Tiga if you’re reading, call me.
So, my friends, this is the part where we say goodbye until next time. This time you were reminded to get your ass in gear (literally) for Pride which is days away. You’ve learned how straight edge and Twitter can work to your advantage this Pride. And now you know where to hear good music and dance (with sexy DJs) before Pride. As Miranda Priestly and Bugs Bunny say, “That’s all!”