2005 Atlanta Pride
2005 Atlanta Pride has come and gone, but the memories of the weekend are still fresh. It’s taken me a while to sit down and write about them because I needed to learn how to add pictures to my journal – and I needed to let some of the events of the weekend settle. It was a very busy weekend – one that was mixed with some really good and really bad things. It was a weekend of extremes. The most exciting part of Pride was that the band and I played the Coca-Cola Main Stage on Saturday, June 25th. I owe a huge “thank you” to Jennifer Sheffield, the Atlanta Pride Entertainment Coordinator.
The weekend started out great. Eric and I had dinner with our friends John and Rich on Friday evening. We got to meet Rich’s cousin Samantha, who was visiting from Kentucky. It was fun to catch up with them. We then left to pick up our friends Charlie and Scott, who flew in for the weekend from Memphis.
Saturday morning started off very early, as Eric and I ran the Pride Run, which is a 5K held in Grant Park. Even though it’s a 5K, it is a very hilly, difficult course. It’s one of the hardest races I’ve run. But I love it. I think this year was my 6th or 7th year running it. (If I actually ran on a consistent basis, I could be a decent runner. But I don’t, so I watch my times decline slightly every year.) After the race, a group of us went for breakfast in downtown Decatur.
I had been looking forward to playing on the main stage for MONTHS. But I anxiously kept checking the weather forecast, as we have been in an extended period of thunderstorms and above average rainfall. But Saturday was a gorgeous day! I met the band backstage about an hour before we were to go on stage.
I have to take a moment to say how incredibly well organized the event is. I’ve gone to Pride every year since I moved to Atlanta, but seeing it behind the scenes put into perspective how well run the event is. The volunteers were extremely nice and helpful.
It took us a few minutes to get everything set up, get the sound levels set, and then it was time to play. We did Lucky, Home For The Holidays, Everything You Need, Forgot To Forget, Natural and Who I Am. Let me just say that it is a totally different experience to go from playing on a small club stage to playing outdoors on a HUGE stage in front of a large crowd. Fortunately, I didn’t forget any words and more importantly, it was a BLAST. My 30 minute set seemed to be over before it began, but the crowd was very warm and receptive. (Special thanks to the sound man – he did an awesome job.)
I’ve attached some great pictures that Charlie took. But there’s more story after the pictures.
Me!
Dionne Osborne gets a groove!
Peter Vogl — one of the best guitar players around!
Jen Lowe on drums!
Van Miller playing the bass!
The band on the Atlanta Pride stage!
2005 Atlanta Pride crowd on a beautiful Saturday — not a rain drop for miles around!
After the set, I made my way to the merchandise table where I was able to catch up with some friends who saw the show, sell some CD’s and T-shirts (stay tuned — more about the T-shirts soon), and collect some new email addresses.
Not long after that, Eric and I got into a stupid squabble and I was pretty much pissed off for the rest of the afternoon and evening. The day started out on such a high and ended up on a downer. Of any day to get into a tiff, that should not have been the day, at least in my mind. That night, a group of us went to dinner at the Cabana in East Atlanta.
Sunday started off okay, but the sunny skies were replaced with light rain. We made our way to 10th street and set up our chairs. We were amazed at how good of a location we had until we realized that the parade route had changed from prior years. So we picked everything up and headed off in search of a new location. It didn’t take too long, but we finally found a location a little further up on 10th Street.
It was a disappointment, and a bit surreal, that there were different groups of anti-gay protesters scattered in the middle of the crowd. One of them kept preaching – nothing hate-filled, he just kept talking on and on into a megaphone. Another group of the protesters stationed themselves in the thickest part of the crowd. They held up their hate signs and were very antagonistic toward the crowd. At one point, they called us filthy sinners. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them for being that filled with hate. On the other hand, I have never picketed a religious event so I didn’t appreciate their trying to disrupt what should be a celebration.
We weren’t close to the protesters, so when the parade started, everything was going great. We enjoyed talking to the people in our vicinity. That is until these two guys came up and started plastering the light pole with “Cher For President” stickers. Yes, really!!! I was leaning on the other side of the light pole while Eric was behind me a little bit with our chairs.
One of the guys stuck one of the “Cher For President” (yes, really!) stickers on one of our chairs. Eric told the guy to get the sticker off. So he did, and then he said very loudly, “Oh well, you must have a really great sense of humor.” And he kept making comments about Eric where anybody could hear. I tried to ignore it (Eric DID ignore it), but I started getting pissed off. (TRANSLATION: If anyone is going to talk about Eric, it’s going to be me!)
Since I was standing a bit in front, I don’t think the guy knew that I was with Eric. But after a few minutes, I said, “Okay, you’ve made your point. Now shut up.” We exchanged a few more words, and then he began to talk about BOTH of us. He made fun of my “I’m a Giver” sticker (for donating money to Pride), said we had no sense of humor, called us gay Republicans, etc. He just kept on going.
So I got within a few inches of his face, fists clinched, and I said, “I’m telling you one last time. You better stop.” (TRANSLATION: Call me anything, but DON’T call me a Republican.) He started talking and I grabbed his arm. He said, “Do you realize that’s assault?” I told him that I didn’t give a damn, that if he didn’t shut up, it was going to get a lot worse for him. I then said, “This is supposed to be about fun. This is supposed to be about unity.”
At that point, the other guy said, “You’re right,” and he apologized. He said to the first guy, “See how easy it is to say mean things to people you don’t even know?” So he offered his hand and I shook it.
But the mood was ruined for me. I kept thinking that one day I was on the main stage singing and could have been arrested for fighting the next. We watched the rest of the parade. We walked around the park. We ate festival food. We watched a few bands. And then we went home. And I was left with memories of a weekend full of extremes.
It’s ironic to think that when I attended my first Pride in Atlanta in 1995, I kind of stayed hidden in the crowds. I didn’t want to inadvertently end up on TV or in a newspaper picture. This year, I was on the main stage, singing my own songs to a large audience. I’ve come a long way since 1995. But I obviously have a long way to go. I need to learn to be more patient. I need to learn to be more forgiving. I need to learn to control my temper.
I grew up in church. I grew up not being able to relate to people who didn’t go to church, who didn’t believe like I did. I could only focus on how they were different from me. Now, I believe that my ability to appreciate people who think and believe differently than I do is one of the greatest measures of my growth as a human. To relate to them for who they are and the things we have in common -without dwelling on our differences, particularly as it relates to belief systems. This weekend reminded me how far that I, that we as a community – and as a race – have to go.
