 |
Another quality page linked to Jim's Pen is Central! |
|
|
|
|
|
Another quality page linked to Jim's Pen is Central! |
|
|
|
only did it for three or four blocks, so maybe you didn't see me.
Most of the march, I was wearing my boots and a tiny black thong. For
awhile, I had a green fig leaf jutting out of the front to cover my
crotch as I pulled the thong down in front. But just before and just
after I made the turn off University Avenue onto Sixth, deep in the
heart of Hillcrest (San Diego's gayest neighborhood), I pulled off
the fig leaf and let it all hang out.
And the crowd went wild!
An appreciative murmur ran through the onlookers, as lesbians and gay men alike nudged their partners and friends, pulled out their cameras, and started snapping shots of the round, bearded, furry bear who was bare-ing it all for their education and amusement. I covered up, and a block later I uncovered again -- another murmur! I repeated as needed.
Actually, the crowd liked what it saw even before I proved I was a man. On University Avenue, while the fig leaf was still precariously in place, a lesbian -- a lesbian! -- ran out from the crowd and tipped me a dollar. So much for the myth that lesbians and gay men don't get along in this town. In fact, I got the impression that more of the photographers aiming their cameras at me were women than men.
marched alongside the Bears San Diego contingent. Not officially, of
course; I'm not even a member of that group, and I didn't tell them
ahead of time what I'd planned. I didn't want them to get into any
trouble, you see, and when one of them politely suggested that I
cover myself up, I did. I then dropped back to march alongside Girth
and Mirth, and went back to my more natural state. I figured that
these two groups would be more accepting of my roundness and my
message about body acceptance -- ACCEPT YOUR BODY / EVERY BODY, my
sign said -- and the onlookers would get the point that I wasn't
ashamed. Of anything!
After all, for a bear to march next to the slim and ripped disco bunnies and muscleboys is just asking for trouble. Sure, a few of them are attracted to bears, just as I'm attracted to them physically, but their culture encourages conformity to an ideal that's unattainable for me, and damaging to self esteem. "Cover up," their ethic says, "and spend lots of money on designer clothes to conceal your flaws."
My ethic says, let it all hang out. I am what I am, and what I am needs no excuses. Literally and figuratively, pun very much intended, I say: You may have the abs, but I've got the balls.
Nudity as free speech -- what a wonderful concept. Talk about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness!
ill
I march this way next year? Probably. With modifications. San Diego
has a law against public nudity, and I have no desire to get
arrested. So I'll talk to a lawyer, talk to the ACLU, talk to the
Pride Committee, and talk to the police. I want to know exactly where
the line is drawn between legal and illegal, and then go right up to
it, but no further. Wherever that line is, the point will be made: Is
it really, really a bad thing to go the full monty? We've got naked
statues -- a man and a woman -- downtown for everyone to see,
complete with naked breasts and a pen is. As long as those body parts
aren't doing anything in particular, is there anything really wrong
with having those body parts be flesh instead of bronze? Even if we
have to cover up our naughty bits -- put on that scratchy fig leaf,
cover our lesbian nipples with black tape (talk about sexism!) --
we'll get the point across: isn't this all ridiculous?
Of course, in the context of a gay and lesbian pride parade, we have to ask whether nudity has anything to do with sexual orientation. Well, yes and no. It has at least as much to do with it as AIDS, or breast cancer, or leather, or thrift shops. I wasn't flaunting my nudity, shakin' my booty just to be outrageous or overtly sexual; I was engaging in free speech. Actions speak louder than words, but they speak. If I really, truly believe that there is nothing shameful about the tummy or the genitalia God gave me, isn't it ridiculous that I have to pretend otherwise by covering them up?
Society told us, as lesbians and gay men, that our deepest, truest desires were shameful and bad. After 25 years of Pride, we now know that's bull.
We're not about to let heterosexuals tell us that our bodies are shameful and bad, either. As anyone who's ever marched in a Pride Parade knows, that is what Pride is all about.