a rainy Fremont Solstice Parade weekend
I took Adam to his and my first Fremont Solstice Parade on a drizzly Saturday morning. He was intrigued, from the zany-painted naked bicyclists to the various off-beat marching bands and human-powered floats. It was entertaining. But indeed, I saw enough shriveled penises and sagging breasts to last me at least until next year. I find it mildly disturbing anyone can get bent out of shape about nude bike riding (although I can understand the initial shock when it first started appearing in the parade in the early 90s and peoples’ concerns it would overshadow other elements of the festivities). Frankly, I believe anyone who gets foamed up about naked cycling has never seen tittering-boobs-and-dangling-weenies-on-a-bike. I found the nakedness fascinating in the usual does-that-not-pose-some-type-of-strangulation-risk? way for about the first couple dozen bike riders before I realized mother nature invented shy turtle syndrome for this exact type of activity. Then my attention turned mainly to the general silliness and fun.
Over the years we’ve somehow managed to get caught up several times in renegade bands of Solstice bike riders when we were out and about in the city. I don’t have an answer for why this was my first official Fremont Solstice Parade. Because I always felt it belonged to other people, it being crosstown and on the other side of the Ship Canal? There are only so many weekends in the summer and a lot of years we’ve participated in things for Pride weekend, which historically has been a big deal for our neighborhood. I have a greater appreciation for various community celebrations now because I find myself looking at them through Adam’s eyes. He’ll have a more intimate perspective of things like the Solstice Parade than I ever have.
Diana asked me if I wanted to go to the Mariners game this afternoon for Father’s Day but being lazy at home was better. After carrying Adam up and down a mountain on Friday and standing around at the parade for three hours yesterday with him on my shoulders, I’m so stiff and creaky I feel like I’m 105 years old. I can transport him effortlessly on my shoulders, but he does weigh 40 pounds and the effect on my spine is apparently not negligible.