Reading Gay Pride: Queer Book Review

This year’s NYC PRIDE is filled with not so mixed emotions, and we approach the big parade here this Sunday. Yep. I am pretty much bitter all around. First, two of my favorite queer spaces are closing. 275 Grand, the best (mostly) Black, bohemian, grown and sexy, queer lounge in Clinton Hill (and the only space like it in the city) is closing its doors Friday night. And I JUST found out that Meshell Ndegeocello is playing there tonight! So I’ll be there twice before they close.

My other favorite place in the meatpacking district in Manhattan is Florent, the 24 hour eaterie, is closing this weekend as well. Florent was one of my favorite places to eat, and Florent, the man himself, was always very sweet to the customers. It will sorely be missed as well.

If you’re a grumpy, anti-capitalist, nearing middle-aged queer like myself, the June Gay Pride festivities can be really annoying — especially in New York. Because there are five boroughs, the events seem to go on forever. Rainbow striped flags, key chains and booty shorts sprout all over the city, defying the drab earth tones of your camouflage shorts and black tank top. Cheesy dance remixes of even cheesier top 40 songs drown out your reflective folk tunes. Yep, June is no bowl of organic free-trade cherries for the political queers.

What I do in these tough times, as the happy-go-lucky gays parade up and down Manhattan’s Fifth Avenue this last week of June, is curl up with some good queer (non-fiction!) reading. Reading helps me get in touch with my inner, bitter queer, and I want to share some of the latest books I’m reading with my queer comrades out there who are throwing anti-Pride pity parties in our miserable little hovels across the tri-state this season. READ THE REST OF MY “READING GAY PRIDE ARTICLE” IN THIS ISSUE OF THE INDYPENDENT!!!

3 thoughts on “Reading Gay Pride: Queer Book Review

  1. You could be me–an old faghag–who actually saw a community come together in the early 80’s. I walked the parade in 1984 on LSD, and hung at the Rawhide. Imagine this from a straight girl! For some fun reading–please consider my intro to my novel: faghagthememoir.wordpress,com
    Why do people have to die for a community to get past superficiality?

  2. You’re nearing *middle age*? You CAN’T be serious; you’ve aged well.

  3. I am in touch with my inner, bitter, lesbian/bisexual side. It’s dark, lonely and yet intriguing. I wrote about it remembering those days in the bars I would go early with my best gay boyfriend to watch episodes of “Dynasty” to the downward spiral of denying who I really wanted to be because I couldn’t find a lesbian to take me seriously.

    I know now that “A Whistling Girl And A Crowing Hen Always Come To No Good End”

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