Everyone was so creative! There were rainbows everywhere, in beards and clothing both. One fellow had vampire teeth and home-made batwings. Another wore stag horns in honor of Herne but had an almost unbearable case of itchy scalp because it was so hot. Oh, were we a colorful group! It was nice to see visitors, too. One fellow came from Vancouver, BC, while one couple came from as far away as Portland, OR, which had its Gay Pride parade the previous weekend.
Originally, we were scheduled for the very butt-end of the parade, but enter our gallant pagan brothers, The Order of Dragon Temples represented by four stately men bedecked in the most fabulous olive-green robes, complete with tabards and coats of arms (guys, who is your tailor? mmmm, mmm, mm!). They let us pile in behind them, probably pissing off the groups that were supposed to go before us. But, honey, what were we to do? It was just so propos.
We rounded the corner of Broadway and Pike to find the sidewalks packed with thousands of people cheering us on. Overall, the general feeling I received was a good one. Along the route, several spectators even joined our entourage. Oh, and not to forget those really charming folks that shot us with their Super-Soakers. Thank you so much; without you guys, I might have died from heat prostration!
The only thing that marred the party atmosphere was when we ran into this small pocket of horribly deluded individuals who claimed to speak for some awful, malevolent deity who burns his children in the fire. How grotesque! Some of our contingent was much more vocal than I was. Some comments thrown at the poor, demented darlings included: "Your god, your rules, you burn in Hell!" and "Hell is for bad Christians go to Hell, bad Christians!" One woman quipped, in the style of a delicate Southern belle, "I just love Jesus, it's his fan club I can't stand." I say: (snap, snap, snap*) go, girl!
Undoubtedly, my favorite incident as we passed by these hate-suckled babies was when a gorgeous woman, in the gauzy canary-yellow trappings of a belly dancer, flitted over to a man in a sandwich board painted all over with nasty looking flames and some hideous saying that I can't recall (praise the gods) and proceeded to give him an up-close show that I thought any straight man would've died for. Of course, he didn't appreciate it. He threw up his hands with a panicked look and started crying out "Get behind me, Satan!" I didn't have the heart to shower the two of them with the condoms I had been collecting that morning.
The rest of the parade to Volunteer Park was fairly uneventful. Our attempts at various chants definitely affirmed our chaotic, unorganized pagan nature. At one point, some were attempting to have a rambunctious circle dance. What fun!
Regretfully, yours truly was the only member of the Widdershins staff to attend, all others being ill, off on vacation or not able to be present for one reason or another. Next year, look for us on the street corners handing out the current issue during the event, because these neo-pagans aren't content to live in the broom closet.
*Fingers snapping
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