Phantoms in the Air

Today is gorgeous, breezy and 80 and sunny and low humidity -- a prefect summer day and a gift, indeed, after endless days of heat and rain and storms and incedible humidity that's so dense you feel like you need SCUBA gear just to walk outside to your car.

I have a bit of a tummyache, so I'm subsisting on white starchy carbs until things realign. The fact that I'm able to recover outside, reading library books and munching bagels in my well-shaded hammock, is making the whole thing much more palatable.

As I sit and swing, staring up at the blue sky, an intermittent roar fills the air, a beast prowling the clouds while looking for a place to land. I hear Sammy down the street hollering, "There they are!" as the roar grows louder, and suddenly four jets streak across the sky, breaking sound and speed barriers, those on the ground left looking up with squinty eyes and craned necks as planes swoop and dive overhead. Suddenly, almost as suddenly as they appeared, they are gone into the powder-puff of a passing cloud. The roar remains, but the jets are phantoms, elusive, only the occasional growl of the jet and a tell-tale trail of vapor to show us that the Blue Angels are, indeed, real and here in Rochester.

WARNING: Pride Ahead

Last weekend we ended up spending Saturday afternoon at the Rochester Gay Pride Parade. It's such an amazing, high-energy event, and we're always happy to be there and support our gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered friends, family and colleagues (and yes, we have a nice number of each of those).

So we parked over on Park Ave., right near Jine's. As we drove down the street, we saw balloons and floats and everything else being put together. People were everywhere, and the curb was slowly filling up with spectators, and the rainbow was everywhere: flags, beads, shirts, body paintings ... the street was in bloom with color.

We grabbed chairs from the car trunk -- me, Jamie and K -- and walked down the street a bit to the park where we were meeting up with B., J., and M. We had bottled water and chilled snacks (it was caliente) and comfy chairs and great company ... and also just so happened to be across the street from some friends of the B and co. who were hosting a little cosmo party. Nice.

We had a killer vantage point on the parade and we could see the light of the parade as it started and slowly moved down the street. First up were police, fire and ambulance crews, along with reps from the City of Rochester. Bon Jour, Mayor McHotty!

Next up came the celebrity marshall, Maya. No, I have no clue who she is.

And then came our first Parade Queen and King. There a bunch of those -- overall Pride Queen and King, club queens and kings, etc. Very regal.

This year's theme was a fairy tale type thing: "Happily Ever After," in reference to the fact that NYS is now recognizing same-sex marriages from other states, countries, etc. where they are legal. This is, of course, a big step toward legalization of same-sex (legal) marriages in the state. It's a Big Deal.

In recent years an interesting trend has arisen: the inclusion of many more politicians and churches. There's a real outreach to the GLBT community by these groups during Pride, which is nice. Of course, there are more religious protesters as well, but seeing groups in the parade is always nice.

And then one of my fave personalities comes rolling by: (s)he is a drag queen, always on wheels, always with a glittering, fab flapper-type dress and wig ... and always still with full-on mustache and beard. Love it. Love. It.

And as if the Roller!Queen wasn't enough (Love. It.), the Muthers float was right behind. It truly had something for everything: half-baked oiled men, Darienne Lake (work those curves, girl!), Pandora Boxx (how DOES she always look so damn fierce?! Geez.), and another fave, Ambrosia Salad (not shown, but she is a total riot and so amazingly TALL ... particularly when wearing spiked thigh-high boots).

God, I miss my hag days. Muthers, take me away!

And this Hansel-and-Gretel thing cracked me up. How leiderhosen were suddenly major, I do not know, but ... there you have it

Fun story: whenever we're out at Muthers or TilT or Pride with B., we always call him "Mr. Rochester" since he appears to know just about *everyone* in the community. First of all, the man is like lesbian catnip. As SOON as we hit an event, he is absolutely swarmed with dykes. It kills me. THEN, as if that isn't enough, it seems like he knew someone in every group going by in the parade: people are waving, queens are calling his name, cute little twinks are bringing over candy and a quick air kiss. It's a riot. It also means I get lots of nice, shiny bead necklaces, by proxy. I'm also hoping he can talk one of the dykes on bikes into taking me for a little ride one of these years ...

But I digress.

ANYhow, this year there was a guy in the parade dressed as a BDSM frog prince ("Happily Ever After," remember?). About 5 seconds after the below photo was taken the frog broke from the parade, RAN over to B, grabbed him, hugged and kissed him, and then ran back into the parade. It was surreal. When asked later why I didn't get a picture of THAT, I could only reply that I was so shocked at B getting molested by an amphibian that I totally lost my wits. The best part, by the by, was that at the end of the parade B confided in sotto voce ,"And I still have no idea who the hell that was." Hussy.

Of course, the parade had to come to a close and so the float from TilT ended things out with a bang: blaring dance music (Pride: the only parade with a kickass soundtrack), dancing queens, kings, rainbow balloons, and a sweaty, oiled go-go dancer shaking his ... groove thang.

Happily ever after, indeed.

Eulogy for a Nun

Tonight I write to honor my aunt, Anna Marie Petocchi, also known as Sister Mary Dominica, who died on Saturday at the age of 92. And I know I want (need) to write about her, but oddly I can't seem to find right words to express who she was and all the reasons she will be missed. It all seems like snippets in my mind.

• Every special occasion I would receive a card. It might be a birthday, a holiday, you name it, but about one to two weeks before the date, a card would arrive. It was often a computer-generated, dot-matrix printed card, always signed with "Pray for, your Aunt Anna" and invariably contained money -- not a lot, sometimes a few ones or a five, but always money. When I was in college and working several jobs to make ends meet, this would often fund my groceries. But it continues to this day, even as I'm married and working and making a comfortable living. No matter how old I was or what I was doing, I was never too old to be loved and taken care of.
• Each Christmas and gift-giving holiday, I would have the same conversation with Aunt Anna. She would say, "I need nothing, do you hear? Nothing. I need nothing." I would still get her something. However, Anna took her vows of poverty and charity very seriously, and one always knew that whatever was given her would instantly be regiven to someone else. We always joked, with love, when we picked out a gift for Aunt Anna, "So, do you think Cousin is going to like this?" And if she ever asked for anything (postage stamps, a phone card, a woolen winter hat) you'd better believe we got it for her! How amazing to want so little, to give so much, and to take such joy in the small things of every day life.
• Every birthday without fail I would pick up the phone or check voice mail only to hear a creaky little voice singing happy birthday. Followed by the words, said slowly and clearly, "Hello, Colleen and James. This is your aunt, Anna." As if we didn't know the one person who never, ever forgot.
• When she introduced me, she would say "This is my niece. She has a big job over at NC, you know. A big job. " Even the last night I had a full conversation with her, the night she was annointed, I was introducing myself to another nun at her bedside and Aunt Anna (who had been dozing quietly) suddenly piped up from next to us with "Big job at Nazareth" before going back to sleep. It's not a "big job," by the by, but her pride in us was amazing, and humbling. She took nothing for granted, and celebrated all steps, big and small.
• Anna had such immense faith, and she believed so deeply. She was always praying for one or another of us -- often all of us! -- and we knew that, if Aunt Anna was praying, things would start happening. I can't tell you how many people have told me they know my name from the prayers Aunt Anna offered up for us on the prayer list! How astounding to have such care and faith that, if it is asked, it will be answered.

There are so many other stories to tell: her hot water with dinner, playing cards with my grandmother (her sister and an unabashed cheater, which made Anna crazy!), sitting on the porch with her and Aunt Addie, picking her up from the Motherhouse with her eight million gift bags for other people, her exclamation of "Laws!" (never "Lord!" -- never to take His name in vain), fond recollections of her many years of teaching. I think that it speaks to what kind of person she was that so many of her nieces and nephews -- Peggy & Bob, Nancy & John, Susie & Freddie, Derrick, Bob, JoAnn, me & J, more -- came to her bedside immediately when she was in need and continued to be by her side until the end. Even more people -- cousins and former students and nurses and even the mail delivery person! -- came to the calling hours to pay respects. Not only that, but so many sisters came, touched her arm, held her hand, comforted her in some dark moments. What a person to inspire such love and devotion!

And so I realize that tonight, even through her death, Aunt Anna has continued give us the gifts we all need. I am so very thankful I was able to sit with her these weeks, spending last days and hours with her; it has been a gift beyond measure. I believe I can now say I know a little more about living and dying than I used to. In watching the other sisters as they held and comforted Aunt Anna, I am beginning to grasp the concept of grace. In observing the caretakers meet Aunt Anna's needs with love and compassion, I appreciate the value of service toward others. In time spent in communion with Aunt Anna and the other nuns, I have relearned a bit about faith and trust. And tonight, as I sat with my many aunts, uncles and cousins, and met some cousins for the first time, and saw with joy and humility my own dear friends come to share and support (Kim and Steve, I'm looking at you), I was reminded anew of the value of holding friends and family close, and the unbreakable strength that comes from that.

That was my aunt, teaching and loving even in her last moments, her last breaths. I am grateful for having known her, and I will miss her every day. That is all.