In the West Village, a Rockette kick away from the Stonewall Inn, a plain-old pedestrian crosswalk was painted red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple - not by activists but by the Department of Transportation!īut the glut of performances could render you perplexed. Sometimes flag mania tugged at your heart. In the Flatiron district, the kitchenware shop Fishs Eddy instructed people to “post your pride” and affixed to its windows a zillion rainbowed stickies upon which people had written everything from “Yasss” in big block letters to a concise: “Came out! August 1982.” A Burberry banner evoked Gilbert Baker’s pride flag. Rainbows hanging in storefronts and as part of bank displays, undulating from fire escapes and car antennae. But this year, in queer land, the performance of pride was conducted with a flamboyance that rivals Independence Day. The performance of a queer self doesn’t seem that far from the performance of an American one, especially if you catch the president’s July 4 military pageant or got a glimpse of Nike’s just-canceled sneakers with the Betsy Ross flag. And, in New York City, the pivot from one to the other isn’t much of a pivot at all. July is national pride month - at least on the Fourth.
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