Last month was Pride Month, which has become a cherished tradition in San Francisco, with many celebrants parading half naked in our streets and other public venues.
Some prominent members of our baseball team, however, captured headlines by refusing to wear caps sporting the rainbow colors at a recent game. Other players customized the headwear with biblical verses as a personal protest to the forced fashion statement.
Pride goeth before a fall as they say, and the Giants haven’t far to drop. They seem quite comfortable languishing near the cellar for most of the season. Fans are fleeing.
Many of our citizens were saddened, too, by the passing of pop star Victor Willis, in June. The San Francisco natives enjoyed his moment of fame as the lead singer of The Village People. Some may recall that their great hit song “YMCA” was adopted as a Gay anthem before being appropriated by the Trump presidential campaign.
Some people here may be hoping for “White Male Hetorosexual Month” and “Married Homemakers Month.” The more disgruntled among us would prefer to see “Get Over Yourself Month.”
Ironically, one of the key lyrics is “Young Man, you can’t do it yourself. Young man, put your pride on the shelf…..”
Theologians maintain that of all the seven deadly sins, pride is the worst, for it enables the other six to take hold: greed, gluttony, envy, anger, sloth, lust, and anger.
Not that San Franciscans have much to be angry about. We reside in the most prosperous city in the nation and one of most welcoming. Its economy is fueled by technological innovation, investment opportunities, and respect for diversity.
It is important to note that Pride Month came on the heels of Black History Month and Women’s History Month. Identity politics notwithstanding, some people here may be hoping that we’ll soon see “White Male Hetorosexual Month,” and “Married Homemakers Month.”
The more disgruntled among us, though, would prefer to see “Get Over Yourself Month,” or “Shut The Fuck Up Month.”
A pride of lions, we dig. In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight. And rest in peace, Victor Willis.
