Alan Ilagan

In remembrance…

This was the sky over our home when we had those late afternoon storms on Monday.

It’s a fitting scene, marking the end of another Gay Pride month, and paving the yellow-brick way into July, the month in which I officially came out as a gay man - way back in 1997.

This year I’ll be celebrating my marriage and my ten-year anniversary with Andy during the month of July, and while 1997 was a very good year, 2010 is just a little bit better.

PS – Bonus Track: Kermit the Frog

There is no one more appropriate to lead off Albany’s Gay Pride Parade than these two. This is Charlie Ferrusi and Timmy Howard, the two gentlemen who were recently crowned Prom King and Queen at Hudson High School. The full story (one of them at least) is right here, and it’s touching and hopeful.

This is Andy checking out the make and model of the automobile that Michael Weidrich rode in.

I love this.

The HomoRadio Crew… live on the air.

The Emperor.

Ulysses in the center, who worked his ass off to make much of today happen.

John, who wrongfully claimed he doesn’t take a good picture.

The brilliant Carmie Hope and uber-fabulous Whiskey Sour (aka Kevin Bruce).

Above is Assemblymember John J. McEneny, which means nothing to me, but Andy says he’s a good guy. He was actually parked right next to us and left when we did, so Andy had a brief chat and handshake with him. Unfortunately, at this point in time most politicians fail to impress me.

I actually didn’t even notice the guy in the red jockstrap showing off his ass until I got home and looked at these photos (and I’m okay with that.)

One of my favorite singer-singwriters, Jeremy James, and his fiance Josh.

Real estate extraordinaire Christopher Broughton of Keller Williams Realty and GayAlbanyOnline.com.

One of my fave ladies, the beautiful Bonnie.

And the perfect ending to any Gay Pride Day – a run-in with Mark and Herb.

I was wrong – gay pride isn’t about sequins and short shorts – it’s about jodhpurs and suspenders (intentionally backward). And a Jean Paul Gaultier denim jacket in the event of rain (not shown).

[More photos to follow...]

This is the artist J. Bone’s rendition of the outfit I wore to last year’s Pride Parade in Albany, NY. I think I like his version of it better than the real thing (which veered intentionally close to Richard Simmons territory). Today my outfit is decidedly different – think equestrian soldier.

The Gay Pride celebration in Albany has grown quite impressive over the last few years, and this one may be the biggest yet. I’ve mentioned my occasional ambivalence towards the idea of gay pride, but when I’m surrounded by happy and hopeful people in support of equal rights, I also feel like I belong.

It’s not something that most gay people get to feel very often. We can be alienated and mistreated by our families and society, in ways both overt and subliminal. The world is overwhelmingly heterosexual, and the most simple and basic activities of life – going to work, eating at a restaurant, seeing a movie – can be isolating and depressing.

That’s why so many of us have to create our own families - out of our friends – where we know we will always belong, where we are no longer different. On this day, I am especially reminded of that.

Now, onto the parade and the party.

{Here’s the real-life version of last year’s outfit, because it’s not Gay Pride without a sequined head-band and short shorts.} 

One of my online buddies, Kelly, from Rambling Along in Life, posted the above photo on his site back in 2006 in honor of Pride month. He asked that his friends post it to their blogs and sites, and it went global. I remember that first year he did it – even though I saw it long after it made its world-wide rounds. I was touched by the simplicity and power of the image, and how strongly it struck a chord with so many people.

Every time that the Pride events come around, I engage in a perennial argument with myself over the meaning of Pride, and whether or not it is even necessary at this point. I don’t need to fly a rainbow flag or shout my homosexuality from the mountaintop to have pride in who I am. But that’s because I’ve been lucky to have surrounded myself with people who don’t judge me based on my sexuality. And then I remember those moments in the past when I absolutely had to stand up and shout out my sexuality to everyone and anyone who would listen. Even when it seemed like the whole world – family and friends included – was against me saying anything.

I remember the first time I saw a Gay Pride Parade in Boston – the thrill it inspired, the joy and hope and spirit it sent through me – and every time I have doubts about whether or not Pride has a place in our world, that feeling wins out.

There is still so much to fight for, and we are a long way from being treated equally as citizens of this country, and denizens of this world. So while I sometimes selfishly wonder from my cloistered lofty perch whether there is a place or need for Pride, I’m glad there are friends who remind me that there is, and always will be.

When I looked at this picture for the first time, I didn’t know anything about who took it or where it was taken. I saw a home where possibly two men or two women lived together. They cared about their house, they took care of the yard, they planted nice flowers and took pride in their neighborhood. They were partners in life, and in love, and the beauty of that bond was apparent in their front yard. The sun is setting or rising, and for that one brief shining moment everything is at peace, whether it’s the start or the end of the day. Every single one of us – gay, straight, black, white, Christian, Muslim, Republican or Democrat – has felt that moment. It’s the moment of coming home.

First off, a disclaimer: my gaydar sucks. It didn’t register George Michael until 1996 when he was singing Jesus to a Child (far from his gayest song). It still hasn’t triggered for Anderson Cooper.  And if it hadn’t been for his dick in my mouth (and vice versa), I’d never have known Andy was gay.

The few times it has gone off have not yet been proven conclusively. Harold Ford Jr. sets it off whenever I see or hear him on the television. The impeccably-dressed guy at work had it ringing, even after everyone confirmed the existence of a live-in girlfriend. And then there’s Ricky Martin.

The first time I saw him was at the Grammys (it was Madonna’s big Ray of Light year, and she opened the show and ended up winning four trophys). Mr. Martin was singing La Copa de la Vida (The Cup of Life) (conveniently embedded below) and at the 0:54 mark I thought, ‘GAY.’ It only crossed my mind for a second, but then it happened again at 1:50 and my mind just went, ‘GAY.’

That night was his first big public appearance  just before he stormed the world with Livin’ La Vida Loca, so most of us didn’t know him that well. (I for one certainly hadn’t followed the many members of Menudo.) As with many semi-attractive (he does nothing for me) single men, there was much speculation about his sexuality at the time. Since he wasn’t my type, I couldn’t have cared less. It wasn’t until recently, and the following photos, that my gaydar perked up again.

Now I suppose it’s possible that straight men do wear speedos, and outside of this country many do. But aside from Daniel Craig doing a James Bond ocean scene or David Beckham being, well, David Beckham, most famous straight guys just don’t rock the speedo (which, granted, is a shame for those of us who like to look.)

These were taken a few years ago (before he went and adopted or birthed a couple of children – are they biologically his? Don’t know, don’t care. I do know he’s already posed shirtless with them, which to me seems both gay and odd…)

The point is, he’s never publicly come out, so my gaydar remains infuriatingly inauthenticated, and Ricky Martin remains infuriatingly unknown.