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In Which I Am Politically Active
May. 27th, 2009 07:51 amI met ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sweh at our usual pub for a quick drink after work yesterday; the quicker because as usual in a holiday week I had an off-by-one error, forgetting it was Tuesday, which is their open mic night. So as soon as the mic opened, we departed. As I walked him to the PATH, we saw a mob of people in the middle of Sixth Ave with signs that we couldn't see; so after he descended into the depths, I noodled down to have a look.
It was, of course, people protesting the upholding of Prop 8, which seems obvious in retrospect. And so I stood for a minute as they started to surge uptown, and took the obligatory few blurred cellphone pics, and saw a couple of girls dashing from the crowd to join the march; and I thought to myself, "Self, I support this product and/or service, why do I not join the march too?" Self replied with a nebulous megrim, which was the usual combination of Not Putting Myself Forward and Who Am I, Anyways, To Stick My Oar In? and then I looked at Self and smacked it with a metaphorical fish, because of course the point of a public protest is for everyone who thinks that the protested item is Wrong can, should, and is welcome to participate. Therefore I too dashed from the crowd and joined the march, which went from there up to Union Square. I peeled off at the end of the march and took the subway home, not sticking around for the rally--there were plenty and enough people to fill the park, but more particularly I desperately needed to pee.
(No Tasering, no police shenanigans of any kind. I think they know better than to mess with the pride crowd by now and save it for the bicyclists instead.)
sweh at our usual pub for a quick drink after work yesterday; the quicker because as usual in a holiday week I had an off-by-one error, forgetting it was Tuesday, which is their open mic night. So as soon as the mic opened, we departed. As I walked him to the PATH, we saw a mob of people in the middle of Sixth Ave with signs that we couldn't see; so after he descended into the depths, I noodled down to have a look. It was, of course, people protesting the upholding of Prop 8, which seems obvious in retrospect. And so I stood for a minute as they started to surge uptown, and took the obligatory few blurred cellphone pics, and saw a couple of girls dashing from the crowd to join the march; and I thought to myself, "Self, I support this product and/or service, why do I not join the march too?" Self replied with a nebulous megrim, which was the usual combination of Not Putting Myself Forward and Who Am I, Anyways, To Stick My Oar In? and then I looked at Self and smacked it with a metaphorical fish, because of course the point of a public protest is for everyone who thinks that the protested item is Wrong can, should, and is welcome to participate. Therefore I too dashed from the crowd and joined the march, which went from there up to Union Square. I peeled off at the end of the march and took the subway home, not sticking around for the rally--there were plenty and enough people to fill the park, but more particularly I desperately needed to pee.
(No Tasering, no police shenanigans of any kind. I think they know better than to mess with the pride crowd by now and save it for the bicyclists instead.)
