Sunday, July 22, 2007


I'm cribbing the pics from the page on the SF Bike Coalition's site about Tour de Fat because I forgot my camera, and my pal Philip didn't bring one, but it pretty much looked like last year's: a fenced-in fun area of beer-sippin' music-listening, bike-riding people.

Around the perimeter were electric bikes on sale, and further outward, pot-smokin' cyclists. While we only had a few beers, it gave us the gumption to continue toward Ocean Beach, where we stripped down to our shorts and got wet. On the way back, we had to laugh as we rode by a wedding ceremony at the Windmills.

Why laugh?
For the straight readers (whom I vaingloriously postcarded at Tour de Fat), the Windmills are, or were, I'm told, a gay cruising area. The juxtapostion of gay/straight social arenas is, I'm finding, quite apparent, particularly now that I'm enjoying more cycling-related events. But few gay friends will bother to go to something like this, if there isn't some gay element. And the only "gay" element of Tour de Fat was a drag Drag Race. "It's Raining Men" played as competitors in a little cycling rodeo scooted around in funny wigs and dresses.

All in fun, of course. But I wonder when they're going to do the Mexican immigrant border race, or the Thug Master Flash drive-by shooting bike loop, while playing racially stereotypcial music.

Oh no, that would be in poor taste.

Anyway... I'm keepin' it short because, despite having tons of stuff to do, I have to be outside again today. It's just too good.

Unfortunately, for homo socialization, things are limited on a Sunday to
A) the Queer Tier of Dolores Park,
B) beer bust at the Eagle
C) maybe part of Baker Beach
D) Black Sands Beach

Why does there have to be a "gay space," straights ask.
Well, everyplace is your space, that's why. Face it; once you straight people find out Cyclizen is a gay book, you won't buy it. You don't want to read about gay bike messengers.

While gays have endured a life of straight-dominated culture, we do limit ourselves, too, even when straight people don't. Here in SF, it's like they're carefully trained to only rut in certain terrain here.

However, I don't want to get drunk, or ride my bike another three hours, and four of my friends are out of town, the dweebs.

Maybe I'll start a Guerilla Gay Bar, as documented in the NY Times. It's articles like this that prove the phrase "slow news week."

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