Not the golf course. Twin Cities Pride is this weekend. I think I’ll be hoofin’ it downtown to wander about on my own on Saturday.
This week’s City Pages has an article on “How the Twin Cities Pride fest helped turn Minneapolis into the San Francisco of the wheat belt.”
At some point during the 2004 Twin Cities Pride festival, perhaps as the Psychedelic Furs are dusting off “Love My Way” for tipsy block partiers, or as you wander through the sea of vendors and corporate sponsors in Loring Park, you might marvel at how far the thing has come. Last year, an estimated 400,000 people–a gathering greater than the population of Minneapolis–attended the multi-event festival, making it the third-largest Pride celebration in the nation. That figure also represented an increase of some 399,950 over the first local Pride march 32 years ago. Then, there was no organizing committee, no budget, and no thought of a parade permit. There were just a few brave souls who walked down Nicollet Avenue carrying Gay Power and Gay Pride signs, confounding passersby as they took into their own hands the advancement of the Twin Cities’ fledgling gay liberation movement.
What follows is an anecdotal history of Pride and the local GLBT activism associated with it, as recalled by some of the players and some of the observers.
Crusty Old Dyke said she has a booth reserved for her scam business in Loring Park somewhere, so maybe I’ll pick myself up a free energy drink. It was kind of funny, we were in the office one day last week at break time, surrounded by five other people, including our two bosses. I mentioned that I was working this Sunday, and she said, “Oh, so you’ll miss the festivities!” And we proceeded to have an entire conversation about it without once saying exactly what it was. Heh.
