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That’s right, you read it here first … Rob Ford will be attending Pride after all! Here’s the official statement:

Gotta say I was starting to lose faith in our new(ish) mayor, but it looks like he’s gonna come through after all. And he’ll even be dressed for the occasion!

That’s the spirit! I dunno if I’d have the courage to strut around with assless chaps and a hand betwixt the pillows, but good on Rob, eh?

We owe a debt of gratitude to Paula Corbett of Bad Bunny Puppets for convincing Rob to be a part of the parade. She and our risqué mayor will be hanging out in front of St. Lawrence Market’s north hall for the next couple of days and, of course, you can drop by her site to pay your respects for all her hard work too.

Okay, let’s be fair, Pride isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. The insinuation that it’s nothing more than public fornication comes from a place of ignorance but, to be sure, I’ve seen a few things over the past couple of years’ events that caused my eyebrows to migrate north, though public nakedness was hardly the cause, and fucking in public never. Not simulated, not actual.

At the same time, people are free not to be a part of this event. You don’t have to like gay people or the folks that come out to support them; that’s your right and I’m 100% behind you in support of that right. I’m certain that there are folks in the LGBT community that have equally close-minded opinions of the straights, or blacks, or women, etc. Whatever…we’re all a little prejudiced, racist, and otherwise bigoted, and while I don’t support those views, I support people’s rights to hold them and even express them.

If you’re not hurting, or advocating hurting anyone, or impinging on their rights or freedoms, I take no issue with you. In fact, I kinda wish there was a Straight Pride parade, and an International Men’s day, or a Caucasian Celebration Weekend, etc. None of these come from a place of hatred or jealousy as I’ve often heard implied, I’d just like to be celebrated for who I am instead of being reminded of some nebulous history that I’m associated with simply by my gender, sexual orientation, or colour of skin.

But Pride has never felt anything but welcoming to me, and I’ve never gotten the impression that it would be anything else to anyone else. And that includes our controversial mayor, Rob Ford.

Yeah, Rob doesn’t come across as someone who’d strut down Yonge in assless chaps, but as I’ve just finished explaining, there’s nothing wrong with that. Some might even say that’s a good thing. Even his comments lumping gay people with intravenous drug users and AIDS are, though dumb, mostly innocuous and somewhat representative of the 905 (that’s Toronto’s suburbs for those of you who don’t live here) — the people who voted him into office.

So what, exactly, is wrong with Rob choosing to go to his Huntsville cottage instead of attending Pride? Isn’t it his right, as mayor, to opt out of such events if he so chooses? And what about his family’s 30-year tradition of heading up north for the Canada Day weekend … why should he be expected to give that up for an event he clearly doesn’t support? Why, in fact, should he be supporting a “special-interest” group lest he be labelled a homophobe?

Okay, let me start with that last statement and explain, categorically, why he not only should be attending, but also why it’s hypocritical of him not to. Hopefully I’ll correct a few other fallacies while I’m at it.

First off, that homophobic label isn’t being assigned by the so-called “special-interest” groups that, apparently, have taken such vitriolic offense to the mayor’s snub of Pride. At least, not anything I’ve read or heard.

In fact, the only place I’ve heard the term being used is by people like Barbara Kay of the National Post who support his decision by implying that that’s what Pride supporters are saying about Ford. In other words, she’s claiming that the LGBT community is calling Ford a homophobe because he’s choosing not to attend, yet she’s the only one I’ve read actually using or even implying that term. Ford’s supporters are coming out and calling the Pride people intolerant, citing such unsubstantiated statements as fact, and then basing their arguments on these baseless and, I suspect untrue, statements.

See, when I make such broad proclamations about what a whole group of people think, I try to link to such statements … you know, back up my claims. So far, and as far as I can tell, the only people who have called Rob a homophobe are those supporting his decision not to go to Pride, and those same people are then using such statements to springboard all manner of baseless commentary. And I’ve seen Kay link to other statements, even in the article to which I refer, so I know she’s capable of it if she wants to. It’s Fox News style “reporting” which serves only to expose the bias of the author and her audience, not of the people to whom she refers.

Still, Rob has every right to avoid Pride. He also has every right to miss Caribana (erm, I mean, the Scotiabank Caribbean Festival), or The Taste of the Danforth, or for that matter any of the other nine or so major events that happen around the city every year. Yup, that’s all within his purview … he can choose to ignore all of these festivals, and it doesn’t even have to ideologically based as, I’m sure, is the case with Pride. In fact, Rob can just sit in his office, do the absolute bare-bones minimum expected of him as a mayor, and I’m sure the 905 crowd who voted him into office would be a-okay with that.

Thing is, these events are big money makers. Pride draws around a million people, and growing, every year. In 2014 and under Ford’s watch, Toronto will be hosting World Pride which promises to be even bigger, and in my estimation, the current event is nothing to sneeze at. The bottom line is the bottom line, and for a mayor who’s major platform during the election was money, money, money, you’d think he’d embrace this cash influx as something positive. He doesn’t need to walk down the street emblazoned with glitter and soaking sweaty bodies with squirt guns, but a show of support – even a simple written statement saying “enjoy the parade” – would demonstrate that he’s standing behind his own campaign pledges. Yeah, apparently this thing isn’t even worth a simple note that could be read in absentia saying “welcome to Toronto, have a fun time”.

Instead, he’s mulling ineffectual ideas like corporate sponsorship (and renaming) of our subway stations or cutting the City Hall snack budget, all the while nullifying these financial drops in the bucket with concessions to the suburbs, still clinging to 1950s notions that the car is king, highways and big houses are the bee’s knees, and the suburbs are where it’s at. His solutions exacerbate the city’s myriad problems, and the few solutions that could offer some relief, at least financially, are being rejected because Ford’s cottage takes precedence over his duties as mayor.

Yeah, but what about that family tradition? Why shouldn’t he get to spend time with his family and relax a bit?

Yeah … why shouldn’t he? Pride is 10 days long, not just one weekend (that’s the parade). Rob could easily attend something or other and still spend the whole Canada Day weekend guzzling beer and fishing. The trip back from Huntsville, which I’ve made numerous times, takes a few hours but is definitely do-able. He could even just say that he’ll come back to town and then miss the event because of “traffic” … totally believable and shows at least a modicum of effort. Or, failing that, offer the written message I’d mentioned, delivered by a representative who’ll be sticking around for the celebrations.

Even Rob’s brother, Doug, concedes that this isn’t the brightest move and said that he’d try to “twist” Rob’s arm to get him to attend, that’s how deep their family’s 30-year tradition runs. Regardless, as mayor of a city the size of Toronto, sometimes you have to break with tradition. Not that he’d have to.

To say that Rob isn’t doing this for ideological reasons is bullshit. Of course it is! But clearly Rob’s distaste for the gay community outweighs his ideology of gravy cutting and revenue making for the city. Yes, Rob Ford can dislike gay people and that doesn’t make him a homophobe — that’s his right. What people seem to be missing is that he also has a duty, as mayor, to support the city, not just when he likes it or when it doesn’t conflict with his leisure time, but for his entire term in office.

Sorry for leaving the witty writing out of this one, dear reader, but it’s waaaay too hot to try thinking about words and stuff.

On Monday I spent the day in bed throwing up and nursing what I can only assume must’ve been heat stroke. Much of today was about basic, sweaty survival. An honest-to-goodness heat wave has settled over the city and even parading around completely naked in front of my front windows isn’t helping. Thanks for the suggestion, Pride folks, but it’s not as liberating as I’ve been led to believe.

The weather people say that my flat should stop being an oven by the end of the week. I’m afraid that in the meantime, by leaving my computer on for too long, I’ll be taking the temperature of my living room too close to the point of combustion. Basically, it’s not terribly conducive to either writing or photography (though there’s still plenty left from the G20 protests!) Plus, I’m still trying to deal with my no-means-of-income situation; that continues to eat up precious blogging time.

In the meantime, here’s the 2010 Pride Parade from Sunday. It’s now officially the world’s largest gay/lesbian/trans/etc./etc. parade. It used to be just LGBT but they added so many letters to the acronym this year that I’m just not going to bother taking it any further (there’s even a “25” in there somewhere!). If organizers can manage it, the world’s first international event will also be hosted here some time in the future. Sorry, Seattle. *snicker*

Not much else to say; it was hot, fun, and those Queers Against Israeli Apartheid people just couldn’t keep away, despite initially being banned. Not sure how their message changed between then and now to get them unbanned, but I’m sure we’ll be hearing more about that in the future.

Enough hot air, here’s the fun.

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In part 1 of this explosive exposé on the real Santa Claus Parade in Toronto, I went into detail on some of the hazards and ordeals that you are really subjecting your kids to by bringing them along to the event. You may not even be aware of this because, as an adult, you’ve had a good chunk of time to build up your comprehension and so your defences. It’s like understanding how lightning works; it’s still a nervous giggle of a WHAM! outside but you don’t hightail it under your couch like the cat. You know you’re safe.

Consider this, for example:

Awww. You see Santa’s Workshop, a few rosy-cheeked, satisfied elves sitting outside with the happy labours of the year past, some cute houses topped with fluffy snow and powdered sugar. Merry Christmas, kids!

From another angle, this is Santa’s Sweatshop, miserly and terribly underdressed children cast outside their warm shelters in the middle of a cold Siberian winter, no doubt for under-producing for the “jolly old elf” (who’s probably enjoying himself a back-alley rub-and-tug somewhere in Bangkok). Merry freakin’ Christmas, kids.

At this point, some parents may say, “But I’ve taught my kids well. They’ll make the right choices.” I’ve no reason to doubt anyone’s parenting skills, but upbringing is no match for military-style indoctrination. Pretty soon your kid’s goose-stepping down University Avenue with the rest of his comrades:

Still not willing to co-operate? Let’s see how he feels after this:

No? I see; junior likes to play hardball, huh?

That’s right. If they don’t get him one way, it’ll be another. Do you really want your kid playing a tuba? What kind of a horrible parent are you to even consider that question?

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After squeezing my way through my second annual procession on Sunday, I can say without hesitation that the Santa Claus Parade is no place to bring your kids. The dangers are many and very, very real.

To begin with, you have strange men winding their way through the audience snapping random pictures of children and posting them on only God-knows what website. That alone should be enough, but there’s much more to be wary of.

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A lot of people don’t know this, but Toronto has a terrible zombie problem. Most of the year they’re not really a nuisance; they pick through trash looking for brains and whatnot, but they mostly keep to themselves. But for the past seven years they’ve taken to the streets in an organized march.

Every year they keep demanding brains (like that’s gonna happen!) and better severance.

One of the things that shocked me about the whole thing was how punctual the zombies were. These days I’ve come to expect events starting thirty minutes to an hour late. But on Saturday, the undead were off and moving at 3:30 sharp.

Also shocking is the size of the demonstration, not to mention the aggressiveness of the group:

I only escaped unharmed because of one amazing fact. That I will share with you tomorrow. You see, the march was so prolific, I simply have no choice but to milk it for two whole posts. Besides, some of the zombies put so much effort into the event, I feel it’s only fair to give them a little air time:

One guess as to what this fellow was demonstrating for. Yup, brains. I don’t get it, are they that tasty?

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Okay, I’ll admit it. I was wrong.

Those tall fences along the Caribana parade route were a good idea. Unfortunately (for the people in the parade), the fencing only ran down one side of the road, and only for half the distance. That left three-quarters of the roughly one kilometer route (a little over half a mile), open and easily accessible. Once people started climbing the barriers and walking along it, the procession slowed to a crawl.

Despite the crush of people, almost everyone was wearing a grin and either dancing or chowing down on the food that lined the route. It was pretty hard not to have a good time; my rump also shook rhythmically. The sound systems didn’t hurt either; to say that they mashed up the placed would be a bit of an understatement. I still have a collapsed lung!

Awesome.

Today is Simcoe Day and I’ve yet to set foot outside so I’ll let the photos take over from here on in. Don’t worry, this isn’t one of those Wordless Weekday things, just capping off the holiday with bit of a break.

Enjoy!

(And be patient; the post takes a while to load)

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Already 4 hours into the parade and no sign of stopping:

I highly recommend grabbing a coffee or a Red Stripe before you continue. The photos go on as long as the parade did.

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Do you remember yesterday with those street-borne communiqués around the city?

This time we have a website and a comfortable patch of grass. I would applaud this effort, I really would. But I actually started to read the web page:

“We want to re-examine public space and to create work which explores our relationship with the space we inhabit. We wish to de-center and disrupt the accepted n…”

*snore*

*snore*

Wuzzuh?!

*wipe drool*

I don’t know what that site meant but I’ve reprimanded my netbook for showing it to me. I’m sorely tempted to put my programming skills to use in creating a tedious content filter of some sort. When it would detect a web page that fell below the customizable tedium level, the browser would warn you with a gentle weeping sound lest you waste a moment of your valuable life. Also, a shudder if your hardware is equipped for it.

Meh. I’d rather be outside anyway. It’s hard to be bored, especially with Caribana just around the corner. And the rampant crime that goes with it:

That’ll go up to twenty bucks on the weekend. Bumbaclot!

Lamport Stadium is where the Caribana judging takes place, and if memory serves, they have about one-hundred million-billion floats and get-ups to evaluate. It’s a lot, whatever the precise number is.

When it comes to parade costumes, people go certifiably insane. They seal themselves up in darkened workshops for months on end, devoid of any human contact. There, they toil away, metamorphosing wire, fabric, and sequins into wings, antennae, and gaudy headdresses.

Finally, after many months and a third refinancing of the house, they emerge.

As a beautiful, gargantuan butterfly!

I’m sure it’s much more impressive than it looks. From what I remember of past parades, the costumes are enormous. That thing he’s pulling out of the truck is probably meant to be worn on the eyebrow. The rest of the costume usually arrives by helicopter.

I suppose I can understand why they’d want these creations protected behind fences this weekend, but I’m not sure if they’re legally allowed to call it Caribana unless everyone, including spectators, are jumping around. Seems like a fence would dampen that enthusiasm.

When I walked along Lakeshore Boulevard (the parade route) today, it felt a bit like I was in a penitentiary exercise yard. With the natural barrier of Lake Ontario on one side, and the gun-turret-like projections of the Direct Energy Centre on the other, winin’ and/or grinin’ just seems out of place.

Guess we’ll just have to see.