LA Pride, Part 2

How it started.

Our Driver Sheri from Auto Museum

Great Granddaughter, Granddaughter, Moi

Reps from Thrive Cosmetics

How it ended.

Our Other Driver

Driving slow, plus the heat of the sun, caused the celebrity car to overheat/breakdown about a half mile from the parade's end.

Inasmuch as it was the Legacy's car, our driver was incredibly embarrassed; but we said, no problem and were prepared to walk the rest of the way, until the Golf Cart came to the rescue for Granddaughter and I, while others stepped up to walk with the signage that had been on the car.

Other than that little snag, the parade, the various news interviews, people from cosmetic brands that had partnered with Twin 1's organization, various board members coming up to say wonderful things about Twin 1 was a lot, and all this was before we even got to the moment with Channel 7, by which time I was a bit of a mess … said I couldn’t speak, that Twin 1’s passing a month ago was still too raw.

For the record, Twin 1 actually passed away in January but, with all the hoopla causing it to be fresh in my mind, it was beginning to feel like it was yesterday.

So, anyway, the parade itself was the largest/longest-running parade I’ve ever seen, overwhelming actually.

So overwhelming that, even though I was given a VIP Pass to Pride Village, I passed, instead chose to be Golf Carted back to the area of the hotel, while the others soldiered on to the Pride Village event.

Being in the actual parade did not allow for an opportunity to capture much of the miles and miles and miles of what there was to see; but I did manage to capture Jesus.

And this lively group.

Upon arriving in Hollywood, I made a point of seeking out the asshole's star.

Surprisingly, this ancient, radiation-feeding megafauna also has his own star; but I bet nobody even thought of damaging, tearing up or spitting on his star.

L.A. Pride

Heading out on Saturday to represent Twin 1 at Sunday's Pride Parade.

Granddaughter and I will be driven in a car, while a contingent from Twin 1’s organization Beauty2theStreetz, and possibly some of the unhoused that Twin 1 clothed/fed/obtained housing for/supported in a myriad of other ways, will be walking alongside the parade route with us.

The Parade starts at 11:00, will be broadcast live on ABC 7, streamed on Hulu, with Twin 1’s moment arriving at approximately 11:30.

We’ve been instructed to wear purple, with fun and/or related rainbow themed accessories. So, if you're watching the broadcast, you just might catch a glimpse of our dressed in purple selves.

But then again, maybe not, because my TV Guide indicates the broadcast ends at 11:30, just as Twin 1's moment arrives, while ABC's promo indicates the live ends at 1:00.

I don't have access to Hulu, so your guess is as good as mine as to how long that broadcast is slated to run.

At any rate, enjoy what there is of LA Pride you're able to view in your areas.

Sentimental Journey

What a relief, I said to myself when I woke up this morning after a frustrating dream.

Of course, I didn’t know it was a dream when I was in it, spinning my wheels trying to get help, blaming myself for doing a dumb thing.

The way it started is I’d gone out for brunch with two friends. Two friends known very well to me in the dream it seems, but not people I know in my real life.

When we arrived at the restaurant’s parking lot, someone that was a friend of one of the friends I was with came out of the restaurant.

The two did a what’s up thing, were laughing, joking; and, at this point, the second person I was with seemed to have vanished from the dream …… it was then just my one friend, and his friend that had exited the restaurant, who seemed to work at the restaurant, had on a server type jacket.

The two talked about doing something that required them to get in a car, drive away.

Evidently, I myself had driven to the scene. We'd arrived at the restaurant in my white jeep, which required my friend to need to use my car.

I tossed the key fob to my friend’s friend, and the two left the parking lot.

I waited for their return, and I waited, and I waited, and I waited.

It seems I waited for hours before determining something wasn’t right.

Then I began kicking myself …… How could you be so stupid as to toss your keys to someone you don’t know? …… Why didn’t you think? …… Why would you allow someone else to drive your car? …… What about the insurance liability of letting someone else drive? yada yada yada.

I did not have my cellphone. Don’t know if I’d left in the car or what, so I went inside, asked the person at the front desk to call the police for me.

He didn’t take me seriously. Scoffed at me. Brushed me away. I didn’t like his attitude, but what could I do.

Back out on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, I approached a couple I saw that had a cellphone out, asked if I could use it.

They graciously allowed me to call the police.

Back inside the restaurant with the police, I suggested I’d been scammed, that the person at the front desk seemed to be involved, and there must be surveillance to identify the two people on the parking lot, which were my friend and my friend’s friend; that possibly the police could track the car from info gathered from the cameras. The thought of lojack came to mind …… did I have it installed?

It was at this point that I woke up.

My first sensation was relief. Thank God that was a dream, thought I as I began my morning ritual.

Details of the dream stuck with me, which is unusual because I generally forget a dream as soon as I awaken. However, as I preprepared to seize the day, the frustration I'd felt in the dream remained front and center in my thoughts … the tossing of keys to that guy.

Since the dream would not let go, I began dissecting it, asking myself "What does it mean?".

"Warning Dream", myself replied and, when I heard that, I knew exactly what the warning was about.

Just the night before, I’d booked myself into a hotel I’d never been to before (6/13- 6/15).

Looking into hotel parking, I’d learned parking at the actual hotel is Valet only at $60 a day. The other option is parking offsite … a garage across the street from the hotel.

Thinking the garage parking might not be all that safe insofar as theft of property pilfered from the trunk or glove compartment, I was planning to foot the bill for Valet Parking. That is, I was willing to pay the charges until I had that warning dream about tossing keys to a guy I did not know.

Due to the hassle of my food issues, trips are no longer in my wheelhouse and, having recently seen how a person can go to bed at night and not wake up the next morning, I no longer assume, no longer plan ahead. However, this trip is something I have to plan for and muster through because it involves LA Pride. I feel compelled to do it for my baby girl.

It’s a great way to honor the memory of Twin 1, acknowledge the work she did in contributing to the care and feeding of the homeless members of the LGBTQ+ community; and the organizers want to provide a parade car or float, with family involvement.

Emotional as I get, when Twin 1’s name comes up, I think the joyous atmosphere will make it so I can do this for her without crying myself the whole route down Hollywood Boulevard.

At any rate, I'll be bypassing Valet Parking, opting instead to take my chances with the garage across the street.

Hubba Hubba Awooga Silver Fox

Heading for the dumpster today, who did I run into but the famous Hubba Hubba Awooga Silver Fox.

He, like Miracle Man seemed somewhat depressed.

Greeting him with "Hey, Stranger, how’s it going?", he responded, "I’m living through it" and went on to say "It ain’t easy. I’m walking around mad and upset most of the time …… There’s something, like a vibe that’s going around and it don’t seem right to me and I don’t know if it’s, you know, everybody is kind of upset, can’t figure out what’s coming, and it ain’t a good thing you know".

I really didn’t know how to respond to all of that other than to say walking around mad and upset will make you ill, stay away from the news and have faith.

We chatted for a bit and I learned he has two ex-wives, no children by the second wife — whose name is Shirley of all things, but three kids by the first wife.

He’s been divorced from Shirley for 15 years, but has maintained contact with her the entire 15 years, due to family.

How a man speaks of his mother, ex-girlfriends, ex-wives is a tell as to what kind of person he is. Of Shirley, Silver Fox says, "She’s probably one of the best woman I’ve met in my life" and that she says he’s one of the best men which, to me, begs the question why the divorce?

I suggested, "Maybe you two will get back together", to which he responded, "The world is changing, so we’ve been talking about it (getting back together) pretty good lately".

My rule is …… never go back, but it seems the economy is driving folks into reconciliations OR at least stomaching each other for mutual benefit.

Silver Fox is really interesting to talk to. In addition to the above, I also learned he’ll be 75 in two weeks, doesn’t like to be around a lot of people (we have that in common) and that, in his words, "I should have been dead three different times".

I’d like to know more about what has happened in his life to make him say that and, if given an opportunity, I’ll see if I can get that out of him before he moves out to rejoin his ex-wife.

If you’re wondering how I managed to get most of our conversation word for word, without using my shorthand skills … ever since that weird little man approached me that day, I set my phone to record video when I leave the unit, just in case I see him again and can capture a photo, off the video, should I have further difficulties.

Thus it was, video was running when I ran into the Silver Fox. I was able to record the conversation AND, at long last, capture a photo for you.

Now keep in mind, Silver Fox’s looks may not be for everyone but, around here, and to me personally, he’s delicious eye candy with a sexy Obama aura.

I also, during the week, managed to capture a photo of the neighbor’s late 20’s something son who made a play for me — put a note on my door with his telephone number, suggesting I call him sometime.

I’m not posting that because, at a distance, he looks okay and seems a nice enough kid; but the photo shows him up close and personal. Let’s just say, at that angle, he looks rough and so far from being attractive that I’m embarrassed to say he's who thought my old arse would be interested.

In other news, Long Beach Pride is this weekend and though I could have booked a hotel and walked to the Festival, what I really enjoy is the Parade, which the logistics are such that I can’t get to.

Twin 1 is no longer living along the Parade route, Granddaughter lives too far away from the site, there’s no hotel near enough for me to walk to the site, driving to and parking anywhere near the parade is an impossible task, so I’ll be missing the fun this year.

Weekend Update, Part 2

Sunday’s parade began promptly 10 a.m. sharp with Dykes on Bikes, followed shortly by Hamburger Mary — which I had a senior moment and continuously referred to as Proud Mary.

With the usual parade fluff of Cheerleaders, Marching Bands, Dignitaries extending the parade to 2-1/2 hours long, what follows will be the more interesting bits and pieces.

I began fangirling hard when Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence showed up.

Twin 1 was in the groove.

Wait for what rolls through at the end of this next video.

Long Beach is replete with ghosts, due to the Queen Mary. So, who you gonna call?

It ain't a party until the popo show up.

Crocheted male genitalia for Sale $45.

No, I did not want to buy, but Twin 1 was ready to spring for one until I reminded that her sister (Twin 2) is a crochet genius.

I sent that photo to Twin 2, and she's already working on it.

And thus the weekend's adventure ends. I now return to my regularly scheduled routine, starting with a workout this morning.

Weekend Update, Part 1

Had a much better experience in Long Beach this past weekend than last time when Long Beach was a drag … and not in a good way, because the energy had shifted to empty streets, nothing interesting to see/to do that felt safe, which prompted me to check out of the hotel a day and a half early, return to the complex.

This time Long Beach felt high energy, safe with people everywhere, lots of interesting things to see/do, starting with Great Grandson’s 2nd birthday party.

The festival opened at 11:00, but I opted to spend that time alone with the grandson and his new sister before the house and backyard filled with a gaggle of parents and children arriving for the party.

There was all manner of goodies to eat for the party guests — adults/their children, and the backyard was transformed into a magical wonderland.

Seeing a magical playland, the kids needed no encouragement or instructions. Upon arrival, they jumped right in.

If you will recall, granddaughter and grandson in-law, worried that White Grandma would ruin the birthday party with her judging, complaining, making everything about her, had rescinded WG’s invitation, asked her to please not come.

So, you could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw WG walk through the door, but she was on her best behavior — warm, friendly to everyone, even gave me what felt like a warm genuine hug when I left the party early to head on over to the festival about 4 o’clock.

I learned later WG did not crash the party, instead she was reinvited.

After I had my little episode of thinking I was having mini strokes and headed to the E.R., grandson in-law began feeling bad/thinking WG is old, did not have long to live. So, after granddaughter gave WG a talking to, as per acceptable behavior, she was reinvited and managed to put up a good front of being a pleasant human being.

Having not stayed for opening gifts, I also later learned great grandson was a "big fan" of my gift — the piggy bank.

Putting in 5,836 steps on the Marina Green, burning 1,050 calories, Day 1 of the festival wore me out.

Clearly, I was over dressed.

Suns out, buns out.

It was a no to pole dancing lessons, as it would have stressed the shoulder damaged years ago (torn rotator cuff) that I occasionally treat with acupuncture.

And by the time I made it to the Queer Country tent, my feet were too tired to do any line dancing and riding the mechanical bull would have broken every bone in my body.

However, when invited to toss an item into the red hole in the mouth on the board, I was game.

I missed the hole, but won a prize for being the only person to get it to stand at attention ...... on the board that is (wink).