Kent and I didn’t get over to San Francisco till two on Sunday. Looked like the parade had just ended. A few of the metal barricades were being collected. There was a lot of glitter in the gutter. And the cold water bottle vendors were knocking a dollar off their festival prices. But there were still a lot of people. More as we walked up Market Street to Civic Center Plaza where all the community booths and tchotchke booths were snuggled amongst a still pressing sea of humanity and the music stages were pumping loud distortion overhead.
I’m sorry we missed the parade entirely. I like to watch it. Not the whole thing, but enough for a taste. The cheerleaders doing a quick pyramid or a giant penis made of helium-filled balloons or something.
But the weather was nice – sunny with a cooling breeze, the fog holding off. We weren’t there long enough to get sunburns. I got some vibes, got to wade in the gay, and that was the goal. Why live across the bay from SF if you never take advantage of it?
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