Crowds showed up for even a truncated march! (All images by Matthew Rettenmund)
Pride was physically tumultuous for me in 2019, since I'd spent like six months with no exercise while nursing my sick pooch back to health; I'll never forget the feat of endurance it was to see Madonna perform then.
Pride in 2020 was virtually nonexistent.
Everyone was in good cheer.
This year, because NYC had not fully reopened when plans were laid, Pride was a mish-mash of classic and cautious, crowded and sparse, big and small — and I must say I was shocked just how often it landed on classic, crowded and BIG.
It was also punishingly humid out — we are entering a days-long heat wave — making this year's theme of The Fight Continues feel more like The Struggle Is Real.
Kids were the backbone of Pride this year.
On my way to the kickoff presser, I spied a family of hicks stumbling out of Port Authority, the teen son in a camo TRUMP cap, and then noticed a series of anti-vaxxer and anti-mask graffiti messages. I tried not to let this put me in the wrong mood. Most of New York state is vaxxed and I imagine way past 70% of NYC is by now, so the real nuts are in the minority, but it was still jarring to be reminded that fascism and populism masquerading as junk science are here to stay.
