Our peony parade was especially flamboyant this year – the best sort of thing a parade can be.
Whenever I used a parade metaphor I think of the straight guy who worked with me at Structure many years ago. Out of the blue one day he came up to me and asked if I liked parades.
“Not especially, why?” I asked with slightly-bored bemusement.
“I had a gay uncle who loved parades so I always wondered if all gay people loved parades.”
He meant well.
But the only parade I truly enjoy is a peony parade.
