Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras 2013

Yes, I am aware that I already blogged about Mardi Gras in 2011.  But this year’s Mardi Gras was pretty frickin’ amazing so I thought I ought to do a follow up blog.

Also, I would have done a follow up blog for Mardi Gras 2012 except that it wasn’t as great because it rained on our parade.  Literally.

As a recap for those who do not know what Mardi Gras is, I am first and foremost NOT referring to the Mardi Gras in New Orleans.  Though I’m sure that one is fun too.  What I am referring to is the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras – our local take on a gay pride parade.  And by local, I mean Sydney… and all of the people it brings in from around the world… and that’s a lot of people… drawing in more tourists than any other event in Australia… and they’re all gay… super gay… GAYYYYYYYYYY…

For the Jews reading this – and that’s probably a good chunk of you - “Mardi Gras” is actually a Christian tradition which marks the last day before Lent – the last day you can indulge for the forty days before Easter (or whatever it is).  Now, the Louisianans have taken that indulgence to the extreme, but I reckon Sydney could give them a good run for the money.  Originally, Sydney’s gay pride parade was held in June to commemorate the Stonewall Riots in New York – widely regarded as the start of the gay rights movement – but was moved to February to coincide with Australian summer back in the 80’s.  With that move in date came the change in name which was fitting because it was conveniently scheduled right around the actual Mardi Gras.  The parade is generally now on the first Saturday in March and marks the culmination of a roughly three week-long festival.  I hadn’t really delved into the full festival before, but this year I jumped right it to get more than just my toes wet.

Fair Day kicks off the Mardi Gras season – a full day at the park featuring hundreds of stalls ranging from gay sports teams and community groups to charities and local businesses.  There’s also food, rides, performances, and more.  One of my besties, Jessica, tagged along this year with me and my posse of gay Jews.

Elcid and David took their turn on this big loopy ride which flung them into the air upside down and every other way and it made me sick just watching them.

Then there are performances, which I had wholly ignored in 2010, 2011, and 2012.  But this year, one of my mates invited me to two of them, which then spurred me to see what else was on offer.  There was the insanely funny yet only forty minutes long Confessions of a Grindr Addict – a one man show with the dude talking about his fear of going on an actual date after a whole year of nothing but Grindr dates.  (Grindr = a smartphone application which locates other gays… it’s “GPS for cock.”)

On the flip side, there was the four hour long Torch Song Trilogy – a heart-wrenching three part play about a Jewish New York drag queen’s (mostly tragic) quest for love.

There was a Golden Girls puppet show.  I’m not even shitting you.

And the play version of one of my all-time favourite gay movies:  Beautiful Thing – the story of two young neighbours who fall in love in a housing project in London.

But the kicker was An Evening with Megan Mullally!  Famous for her role as Karen on Will & Grace, Megan told the audience a bit about herself, sang a few songs (who knew she could sing so well?!?!), and just made us laugh the entire time.  I wish people would pay me that sort of money just to go on stage and talk about me!

There’s also a whole Mardi Gras film festival, but my schedule was already filled up so I didn’t check any of them out, but it’s already on my agenda for next year.  And parties.  Don’t forget the parties!  All day and all night parties, but they are quite expensive and I’d rather just go to bed (I’ve hit thirty and I’m feeling sleepy), so I didn’t go, but they are an integral part of Mardi Gras.

Once again, I marched in the parade with Dayenu, Sydney’s Jewish GLBTI group.  We kicked off the celebrations the night before at Emanuel Synagogue with a special Mardi Gras Shabbat service followed by dinner.  I am pleased to report that, unlike last year, nobody got food poisoning this time.  Oh - did you not hear about that?  That’s a whole other story…

Then there was the parade.  I was a bit nervous as Mother Nature got all pissy and decided to rain heavily on last year’s parade, and this year’s weather was looking equally as sketchy.  Also, my cape broke last year (yes, I had a cape on my costume) and I had to hold it on with one hand while marching, so that was a letdown.  But, the weather held out for the most part and we were able to stay comfortably dry during the march and I didn’t have any sort of elaborate cape this year.  Yay!  As this was Dayenu’s 13th year marching in Mardi Gras, it was only fitting that our theme was Bar Mitzvah.  We had pink kippot and rainbow tallit!  This pic of Brandon and Michael modelling our gear was so good that it was featured in a story about our float in Haaretz, Israel’s most influential newspaper.

In addition to our fabulous kippot and tallit, our float had a giant Star of David inscribed with “Mazel Tov”!  Because it wouldn’t be a Bar Mitzvah without a good dose of mazel tov!

A few of us made “Kiss Me, I’m Kosher” t-shirts to wear, and we had some fun posing for a picture or two.

The best part of the parade is the staging area beforehand.  For 2+ hours, all of the floats are lined up behind fences and you can walk around and check out all of the fabulousness.  And by fabulous, I mean drag queen nuns out to spread the truth about Jesus.

And tuxedo tops with lacy stocking bottoms! (and no, no pun intended there…)

Did I mention that Jessica accepted an invitation to march with the gay Jews this year, even though she’s straight and Episcopalian?  We don’t judge.

She even snapped a photo of us walking over to the parade as we crossed the rainbow crosswalk at Taylor Square!

She had such a blast hanging with the gay Jews that she’s already confirmed that she wants to march again next year.  Hmmm… maybe I’ll get her to convert… to Judaism… not to lesbianism…

And then we marched!

And then it was over and we celebrated with Thai food and gelato because all of the gays (aside from me) had been starving themselves to get skinny for Mardi Gras and they were ravenously hungry.  Silly boys.

As the night faded, we began the important process of starting to make plans for next year’s parade.  How exciting!

Dear Corona Marketing Department

Dear Corona Marketing Department,

I write this letter to you in regards to your current advertising campaign that has blanketed our fair city.  “From Where You’d Rather Be” is the theme, and the advertisements on billboards and bus shelters feature one or more bottles of your beer on some sort of beach-type setting.  The scene almost always also includes young, attractive men and women who appear to be really enjoying life.  This implies that by drinking a Corona you will instantly be transported to a tropical beach full of hot, young people.  The marketing idea is indeed clever.

For the United States and Canada, undoubtedly your largest target markets, these billboards must do wonders to drum up business.  I get the image of a man slowly sliding down an ice-covered hill somewhere in Minnesota, struggling to stop on the slippery ice, finally coming to a halt at the bottom just before he’s thrust into traffic which wouldn’t be able to stop for him due to the slick conditions.  Then, as he lets out a big sigh of relief, he looks up to see the massive billboard just across the road – the one with the beach scene and flip-flops and attractive 20-somethings and sunglasses and, of course, a bottle of Corona, with the words “From Where You’d Rather Be” in the top corner.  And he thinks to himself “Fuck yes.  I’d rather be there.”  And he goes to the liquor store, buys a six pack of Corona, heads home, puts on some tacky Hawaiian shirt or something, and sits in front of his fireplace quietly thawing out while he enjoys a refreshing beer.

Genius marketing.

Now, the marketing campaign seems like the best thing since sliced bread and your advertisements surely also blanket North America during the cold winter months of December, January, and February.  The person in charge of distribution must think to him or herself “This is working so well in Massachusetts and Montana and Manitoba that surely all I have to do is check a little box or hit forward or something on my computer and this campaign will go global and I’ll be praised by my managers!”  And once that little box is checked, suddenly Australia is also blanketed with the “From Where You’d Rather Be” advertisements.  All good, right?

Wrong.

Do you understand that you are putting up billboards here in Australia during December, January, and February?  And that Australia is quite the opposite of the United States and Canada when it comes to seasons?  While it dumps down snow on Milwaukee and Kansas City and Fargo and all those other frigid places in North America, it’s hot as fuck here in Australia.  It’s summer.  Assuming that the place you suggest in the “From Where You’d Rather Be” ads is Mexico – because that is where Corona comes from – then I must say with all confidence that not a single Australian would rather be there.  It’s winter in Mexico, and while I’m sure Mexican winter isn’t all that noticeable, why would anyone leave summer in Sydney for winter in Mexico?  Also, Mexico has crime.  Lots of it.  And kidnapping.  Number 1 in the world in fact.  And dysentery.  A quick way to ruin expensive Australian underwear.  Why would any Australian go there during this time of year?

Allow me to present to you, esteemed members of the Corona marketing team, two scenarios for your consideration.  Scenario 1: You can spend thousands of dollars on airfare and accommodation to travel to Mexico just to get robbed, beaten, kidnapped, and left for dead in a kiddie pool full of your own uncontrollable diarrhea, or Scenario 2:  Spend $3 to take the bus down the road to Bondi with your beach towel and sunglasses and board shorts and flip flops and have little to no chance of getting robbed, beaten, kidnapped, or shitting yourself?  Which one better resembles that scene on your advertisement?  I’ll let you ponder for a minute.

Are you ready with your answers?

I thought so.  Maybe you should bring back these ads in June, July, and August, when beach season is over in Australia and people may actually be inspired to drink Corona based on that sort of advertising.  Or maybe you can pay a few local Australian advertising professionals to come up with some concepts that actually suit the Australian market?  Just a thought.  Until then, I’ll drink one of those European or Japanese or New Zealand beers that have pictures of frozen mountain scenes on the bottle – you know, the ones that are made from glacial water or some shit like that.  Surely those beers must be colder – I mean, they come from a fucking glacier – and when it’s 115 degrees outside and my ass skin, shorts, and the bar stool have all melded together and I’m stuck to my seat, I think I’d rather have a cold, crisp beer than one that’s been out in the sun on some Mexican beach all day.

Yours truly,

Confused Customer

p.s.   Your sign is broken.  In more ways than one.

Shitty Umbrellas - Part 2

It’s been over a year since I blogged about shitty umbrellas (http://phillipdavid.blogspot.com.au/2011/12/shitty-umbrellas.html), and while the topic doesn’t necessarily warrant a second posting, this past weekend’s extremely rainy and windy weather has inspired me to go for round two.  Once again, Sydney turned into an umbrella graveyard, and I went in armed with my iPhone camera.  So, without further ado, I present to you this weekend with umbrellas of Sydney:

The Inside-the-Lobby Umbrella

The Umbrella in the Recycling

The Bus Stop Umbrella

The Rubbish Bin Umbrella

The Footpath Umbrella

The Abstract Art Umbrella

Saturday night.  12:30am.  I was heading home from a friend’s birthday drinks in Potts Point.  There was thunder and lightning.  Bad thunder and lightning.  I had no money left for a taxi.  Being only a 15 minute walk back to my house, I decided to brave the elements.  I was armed with my trusty Hammacher Schlemmer windbrella from New York.  It’s a fancy umbrella, and it never fails me.  But tonight, this dreadful night, the wind was just too strong a force to be reckoned with.  My super durable windbrella became disfigured somewhere along William Street.  Metal parts bent, I was unable to close the umbrella upon arrival at my apartment.  Needless to say, the rest of my night and the entire next day were completely ruined.

This is the biggest tragedy since the Hindenburg disaster.

Gun Control in Australia

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Australian Marriage Update

I last posted about marriage equality in Australia in August 2011, and things were looking very promising here at that time.  It has been a year and a half since then, and a lot has happened around the world.  Denmark became the eleventh country to legalize marriage for same-sex couples.  In November 2012, voters in the US states of Washington, Maine, and Maryland changed the tide when they voted for marriage equality for the first time in US history, and voters in Minnesota at the same time rejected an amendment that would have enshrined marriage discrimination into their state constitution.  The Mexican state of Quintana Roo legalized nuptials for all, as did courts in four of Brazil’s 26 states and their national capital:  Alagoas, Bahia, Brasilia, Piaui, and Sao Paulo.  There were further court victories in the Mexican state of Oaxaca and activists there seem to have a state-by-state court-based solution to remedy their inequality.  More recently, marriage equality has passed crucial votes in Uruguay, England, France, and just over the water in New Zealand.  All four of those countries are expected to have full marriage equality in the coming months.  On top of that, there are serious movements in Ireland, Scotland, Luxembourg, and even Colombia to bring marriage equality to all.  Hell, even Thailand is about to vote on civil unions and the government of Vietnam is currently looking at that as well.  Holy crap!

Back in the US, the legislatures of Illinois and Rhode Island each had one chamber pass marriage equality, and both states appear poised to pass marriage legislatively in the very near future as Democrats control the other chamber in both states.  A measure is being introduced in Minnesota this week, Delaware shouldn’t be too far behind, civil rights campaigners are busy shoring up support to override the fat-ass governor’s veto in New Jersey, and Colorado should have civil unions by the end of this month.  Hell, same-sex marriage was even brought up in New Mexico, Texas, and Wyoming!  Not that is has any chance in any of those states right now, but it’s at least being talked about there.  Who would have thunk?  Five other states are looking to overturn the marriage discrimination amendments in their constitutions in 2014, and both the so-called Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) and Proposition 8 cases are scheduled to be argued in front of the Supreme Court in March, with decisions handed down by June.  It could be horrifying, or the best thing ever.  Let’s hopes the justices do what’s right and strike down both discriminatory laws as all lower courts have done before them.

So, what about Australia?  The governing Labor Party voted to officially include marriage equality in their party platform in December 2011.  Despite that, Prime Minister Julia Gillard proposed allowing conscience vote on the issue – so members of the party can vote against party platform if they want to.  With that, it pretty much dashed any hope of bringing equality to hundreds of thousands of Australians who need it.  The leader of the Liberal Party (Australia’s right-wing party) refuses to allow a conscience vote on the issue despite quite a few high profile members of his party supporting it.  Nevertheless, a marriage equality bill was brought up in the House of Representatives where it was defeated swiftly – 42 to 98.  That’s a ridiculous defeat for a country where polling suggests 70% of the population is in favour of the change and for a country where Macklemore’s song “Same Love” about gay rights and marriage equality – which only scratched the charts in the US, topping out at # 89 – went all the way to # 1 here down under.  The public want this change, but politicians are playing dirty games and catering to a few critical swing voters.

Next up:  maybe a state based attempt?  Marriage has been regulated federally in Australia, but legal scholars don’t seem to agree on what would happen should a state pass a marriage equality law.  Tasmania tried to legislate for marriage equality a few months ago.  It passed one house of their Parliament, but missed out by two votes in the other.  It seems some of their Members of Parliament didn’t want to thrust little Tasmania into a battle over marriage with the federal government.  My state, New South Wales, is the largest state with the most resources to defend any marriage equality law from the federal government.  The state Parliament currently has an enquiry out to the public, and it looks like it may come up for a vote in a few months.  Victoria and South Australia have also had rumblings and it will be interesting to see how it all plays out.  We know it is inevitable, but just how long will Australia wait and just how far behind other parts of the world will they fall before the government grows some balls and takes some action?

Now, we know that the laws here don’t provide marriage equality for all Australians, but that doesn’t mean that loving gay and lesbian couples can’t get married.  When civil laws of a country fail, sometimes there’s a religious law that will back you up.  It is surprising that so many people hide their bigotry behind their religion, but as I’ve experienced it, religion is one place where you can and should be accepted.  Enter two of my best mates:  Elcid and David.

Late last month, Elcid and David tied the knot in a religious ceremony and a lavish reception to rival all other weddings.  As many or most Jews are very liberal, the local synagogue had no issue performing a religious wedding for the boys (as long as both were Jewish, so Elcid spent the last who knows how long going through the conversion process.)  The synagogue called both grooms up to the Torah on the Shabbat before the wedding – a religious ceremony called the aufruf.  On the day of the wedding, the two grooms took their place underneath the chuppah (Jewish wedding canopy) and Rabbi Ninio united them together as a married couple in the eyes of God.

They signed the ketubah (Jewish marriage contract) and then they both stomped on glass – a symbolic Jewish wedding custom) before moving into the reception hall.  Of course, we had to hoist the boys up on chairs and dance the Horah!

Then there were drinks, food, more drinks, more food, and a crazy photo booth where Team America shined! (Elcid is also originally from the old country)

Then I had to give the big speech that I had been panicking over for weeks – and fortunately it went extremely well (despite me incorporating the word “penis” into the speech… four times…)  And then there was cake.

Delicious cake.  Made by a friend of theirs.  And it had the world’s cutest wedding cake toppers WHICH MATCHED THE BOYS’ OUTFITS.

See?!?!?  Now, I don’t know if they had the cake topper made that way, or if they picked out their outfits based on the topper that they found, but it was amazeballs.  EVEN THE KIPPAHS MATCHED!  Let me repeat:  even the fucking kippahs matched!  HOLY AMAZEBALLS!

From start to finish, the wedding was absolutely perfect – every detail.  Except for the length.  I wouldn’t have been opposed to another hour of dancing!  At the end, the boys exited stage left and the rest of us went home full, tired, and slightly tipsy.  Or a bit more than slightly tipsy.  Perfect night!

So my question is – especially posed to Prime Minister Gillard – if our synagogue recognizes this marriage between two loving adults as equal to all other marriages performed in the eyes of God, why can’t Australia recognize that as well?  Why can’t Australia – and all of the other countries out there – respect our religion and let us decide for ourselves what is right and what is wrong?  Marriage equality isn’t just a civil rights issue.  It’s also a religious freedom issue.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go make my submission to the New South Wales marriage equality inquiry.

Dirty Thirty Down Under

All of those years of making fun of people over thirty finally came back to bite me in the ass.  At the beginning of this month, my odometer hit 30 years old.  Eeeek!

One of the great things about being in Australia is that I now have a summer birthday – no more Seattle rain to gray out my big day.  Furthermore, I sort of have two birthdays.  I was born on February 1st, but if you go down to the minute, the 18-hour time change between Sydney and my birth state of New Mexico meant that my odometer didn’t actually tick over until early afternoon on February 2nd.  So I did what any reasonable person would do:  I celebrated both days.

Friday night – my American birthday – was spent with my close circle of friends.  One by one they braved the pouring rain (so much for a sunny summer birthday) and showed up at my apartment to indulge in two bottles of 10-year old Semillon that I had been saving for a special occasion.

They came bearing inappropriate birthday cards and fantastic gifts of fancy coffee mugs, a credit on my car share membership, a bottle of wine from my favourite winery, lots of American delicacies, and more!

Another bottle or two later, and our little group was off to Food Society, a delicious Modern Eastern European restaurant situated less than two blocks from my apartment.

We had a feast of cheeses, meats, amazingly delicious cauliflower (who knew?), substantial main dishes, and of course, desserts!

Being Eastern European, the restaurant also has an extensive selection of vodkas, and once we spotted the Peanut Butter & Jelly Vodka, we knew we had to do a shot.  Or two.

Dear lord it was amazing.  I seriously need to find this PB&J vodka in stores.

Then on Saturday – my Australian birthday – I rented out the big back room of a local trendy pizza joint not too far down the road.

Mad Pizza played host to me and 50 of my closest friends in Australia.  It’s amazing to me that I’ve been here just a smidge over three years and had 50 people at a party.  What’s even more amazing is that I had invited just over 60 people.  And even more amazing is that those 60 people were the short list – weeded down from a larger group of people that I’ve become friendly with in this country.

The group included the gays, the Jews, the gay Jews, some co-workers, a handful of Americans, and a cluster of others that I’ve met randomly along the way and have grown quite fond of since arriving down under.  Salads and pizzas and drinks and tiramisu and a super cute waiter to look at and a sneaky tequila shot later, the night was over and I went home to slumber in my old age.  I said no gifts, but a few cheeky friends refused to show up empty handed.  The majority of the gifts involved chocolate in some form or another, and I’m slightly embarrassed to admit that the stash didn’t last too long.

So, what’s on the agenda for 30?  Well, now that I’m getting old, I think bread with more fiber is in order, as is shampoo for thinning hair.  But on a more positive note, travel will be the big focus this trip around the sun.  I plan to cross at least 7 items off my list of 103 things.  As birthday gifts to myself, I booked flights up to Cairns – home of the Great Barrier Reef – for a week with my sister when she comes out to visit, and a bigger, longer, and more expensive flight to Helsinki toward the end of the year.  I’ve always had a fascination with Scandinavia, and I couldn’t be more stoked to be spending a few days in Finland.  After a stop in Estonia, I’ll be heading to Russia to meet up with my high school friend Lenora.  We’ll ride the Trans-Siberian Railway across from St Petersburg to Moscow and on to Irkutsk before turning south for a few days in Mongolia.  And, just for good measure, I think I’ll book in an extra-long layover in Seoul for the way back.  Long weekend trips to Canberra, Brisbane, and maybe even Singapore are in the works, and I’ve had my eye on New Zealand for some time now too.

Aside from my extensive travel, thirty will hopefully be filled with more friends, more fun, and probably more pizza.  A lottery win wouldn't hurt either (all this travel is breaking the bank!)  And maybe a little bit of dirty too.

But only because it rhymes.  I like rhymes.

Sweaty Work Shirts

Dear Australians,

On the right guy, you know that business attire can be very sexy.  Slacks that gently grip the butt.  Slim fit button down shirt.  Even a tie and tailored jacket when needed.  But do you know what is not sexy?  When that button down shirt is 70% covered with sweat stains.

Why, Australians, why do you not wear undershirts?  Not one of you do.  And in summertime here, it never ceases to amaze me just how many men walk around Sydney – both on the street and even in my office – with sweat stains on their shirts.  In the elevator in the morning, I follow men in who have giant sweat stains from their collar all the way down their back to where their shirt meets their pants.  It is not sexy.

Sweat stains on an exercise shirt can be sexy.  Soccer players – running around the field – getting all sweaty in their jerseys or polos or whatever they are wearing.  Yummy.  Runners – in their tank tops or singlets or whatever you want to call it – their arms glistening with sweat as the subtle stains on their torso coverings slowly grow as they run meter by meter through the botanical gardens.  You look hot, Mr. Runner, let me blow on you to cool you down a little.  And you, man in the business shirt, that expensive shirt with the giant sweat patch on the back, oh baby… oh wait, no.  That’s not sexy.  Not at all.

American men know that a sweaty work shirt is a turn-off.  Canadian men know that a sweaty work shirt is a mood killer.  European men know that a sweaty work shirt is a boner shrinker.  Why then, why have you Aussie men not received the memo about sweaty work shirts?  When I first moved here I would wear an undershirt to work every day so that nobody would see any potential sweat stains that came through, and because I wouldn’t need to wash and iron my work shirts as often.  I could get two uses out of them, especially in winter, and sometimes even in summer.  But then I noticed that not another soul in the office was wearing an undershirt.  And I stopped wearing them so I could fit in like an asshole.  And now I have to plan my attire around the weather report.  Tuesday is going to be hot – can’t wear gray or green!  Must stick with that striped shirt or solid black.

But, still, sometimes I will put on an undershirt, especially on those really hot days.  And when I do, without fail, several people will ask me, “Are you wearing a t-shirt under your shirt?” or “Aren’t you hot with that extra shirt on?” And my answer, is “Yes, I am wearing an undershirt, and yes I am hot with it on, but you know what, I’d be hot without it on.  In fact, I’d be scorching even if I was completely naked right now, because you know what?  IT’S 115 FUCKING DEGREES IN THIS CITY AND ONE LITTLE LAYER OF COTTON ISN’T GOING TO MAKE A DAMN BIT OF DIFFERENCE WHEN IT COMES TO MY FUCKING BODY TEMPERATURE.”

Here, let me take my undershirt off.  It’s still 115 degrees outside, but now that I’ve removed my white Hanes t-shirt, my body temperature has cooled dramatically and I think I might need a jacket now!  Amazing!

Or not.  Ok, so I’ll agree that the one little layer of cotton may increase my body temperature by a degree or two, maybe.  But is there really a difference between 113 and 115 degrees?  I’m going to be uncomfortable no matter what I’m wearing, but at least with an undershirt, a lot of the sweat that flows like Niagara from my body will be soaked up by my trusted cotton friend and will not make its way to visibility on the outside world.  Yay!

So, Aussies, I highly recommend you embrace the undershirt, or at least stop asking me all those questions when I wear one.  And if you choose not to embrace the undershirt, well, you can sit there with the giant sweat stain which has engulfed your entire back and most of your front – so badly that your wet shirt is now clinging to your skin.  And your only hope will be for that stain to quickly continue growing down the length of your sleeves thus rendering your shirt 100% wet for a full covering – so that it no longer looks like a sweat stain but instead just a darker shirt.

Just don’t give anyone a hug.  Eeeek.

Sincerely,
Phill