Monday Evening, June 30, 2008

This atmosphere of approval and praise is apt to be so exhilarating as to put us off balance by creating an insatiable appetite for more of the same. Or we may be tripped over in the other direction, when, in rare cases, we get a cool and skeptical reception. Twelve & Twelve, page 85

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Hey y'all, I could not decide on a quote so I picked up my "twelve and Twelve" and decided to use the first two sentences on the odd numbered page I opened it to. I still need praise and approval and I wilt at cool and skeptical reception. However, I am now much better than I was when I was out there, but every now and then I just need that little reassurance of praise, acceptance, or acknowledgement that I'm ok. Ok, so I'm one of those that are sicker than others. Maybe so, But I am sober.

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This past weekend I drove in the Houston Gay Pride Parade. Daave was the lead car with a red convertible and I was the 2nd and end vehicle in my Red Honda Pickup. Daave was transporting Mr. and Miss Lambda 2008 and I had a truckload of beads and bead tossers. We went through 8 cases of beads and the crowds just loved them. We were more to the end of the parade than in the prior two years and the crowd was drunker than previously. But they were having fun and just loving it. I always do a trip down memory lane when I drive in the parade.

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My first parade was in Los Angeles in 1975 on my motorcycle. We did precision riding and had a blast, there was about 25 of us. The last time I rode in the Los Angeles Parade was in 1992 and my bike club, The Warriors Motorcycle Club of Los Angeles was the honor guard and led the parade. But the feeling then in no way compares to way I feel when going down Westheimer.

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Houston is my hometown. I remember when it was illegal for us to congregate. Oh yeah we had baars, but they were constantly raided and they'd haul off a few to jail for indecent behavior. The indecent behavior was having your hand on the shoulder or around the waist of a same-sex friend. I can remember private house parties being raided just because it was a gathering of gays. I especially remember one Halloween Costume party on Marshall St in 1963 when the cops came. I was 21 slender and my first time in drag. I want you to know that when they hit the front door, US queens hit the back door and jumped over this six foot chainlink fence. There was skin, chiffon, sequins, and all kinds of drag crap hanging on that fence but most of us got away. I never thought to take off those damned high heels, I just got a burst of energy and I think If I had had to I could have jumped over the moon.

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The kids nowadays are so lucky to live in the atmosphere that we have today. It is nowhere perfect, but it sure is a hell of lot better than it used to be. It will get better, If you don't believe it look at the last 39 years. It just keeps getting better.

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In 1962 I was drunk as a skunk as I ran in those heels. Today I am a sober member of society. I am of service to my fellow beings. I am a work in progress, never to gain perfection, but I sure as hell am enjoying the ride. And it just don't get much better than that.

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Today I am grateful for:

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God, My Higher Power.

My Sobriety.

Mamie, my schnauzer.

My sponsor.

That I will be at my sisters from Wednesday to Monday.

The group from Saturday Night Lambda float.

The notes from all of you during my short hyatus.

This being a WE program.

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Y'all be pretty now, ya heah.