The seniors and I decided to take a day trip into DC to visit the National Gallery of Art (NGA). As we were nearing our destination, the traffic began to get thick and several roads were blocked off. They were all confused by the mayhem and wondered “what on earth” could have been going on. I quickly assessed the surroundings and advised them, “Gay Pride, that’s what. We just became part of the gay pride celebrations!”
We found a parking space and began walking toward the NGA. Ahead of us were several drag queens donning or getting ready to don incredible regalia. The colors of the rainbow were everywhere – including on my Uncle. He was wearing a striped dress shirt and the stripes were the colors of the rainbow with white accents. I advised Aunt Winnie of the coincidence. “Really? That’s his favorite shirt. He’s been wearing it for years,” she replied. “He’s a trendsetter,” I told her.
After visiting NGA, we decided to head back to the 55+ community (nap time). My uncle offered for us to wait on the corner and he would grab the car. “I’m going in there. Wish me luck,” he told me. By ‘there’ he meant the Capital Pride festivities; cutting through the festival was a shortcut to the car. After he left us, I took my parents and Aunt Winnie into the festival so they could catch a glimpse of it’s greatness. I’m pretty sure this was their first Gay Pride and knowing that I was the one who was with them to experience it made me oh so proud.
A few minutes later, my Uncle returned with the car and said, “Sorry it took so long, I was mugged by a drag queen.” In the back of the car I started singing, “Don’t be a drag, just be a queen….”