by Reid Fitzsimons
June is an enchanting month, with the longest day of the year on the summer solstice and memories of the beginning of school summer vacation that still seem fresh over 50 years later. Unfortunately, for the past 20 years or so, June has been tainted with the concurrence of “pride month” and the self-involved in-your-face activism associated with it. Somehow pride is demonstrated by marching down streets wearing skimpy leather bondage apparel, overweight white guys riding bicycles naked in front of children, and revelers chanting “We’re here, we’re queer, get used to it,” or the more recent incarnation of “We’re here, we’re queer, and we’re coming for your children.”
I find myself nostalgic for the long-gone time when the homosexual community simply wanted to be left alone, to live their lives without being hassled. They had the moral high ground and it was easy for any decent and compassionate person to stand up with them and for them. Regrettably, mutual respect and tolerance morphed into acceptance, then “embracing” and celebration, and finally into a cultural morass of almost indecipherable letters and symbols, LGBTQQIAP+ or perhaps 2SLGBTQQIPAA. Any pretext of civility disappeared, to be replaced by a demand for absolute obedience and submission to the powers behind the bizarre alphanumeric totems: the only option permitted became to smile and nod one’s head in agreement..or else.
