And Then They Lived and Then They Died

Sunday was a bittersweet afternoon in Washington, surrounded by people I love, remembering loved ones I’ve lost. 

It was my first time seeing my brother Bill’s final resting place. I think it turned out beautifully -- nestled in the heart of his beloved Capitol Hill neighborhood.

We also visited Arlington National Cemetery, where my father and oldest brother are buried.

I often think about what Kevin would have been like had crib death not stolen him from my parents.

Terence new wheels!

My dad and brother Kevin are neighbors with some couple named Jack and Jackie ...

Damian with his mother and sister Gabby

  

In East Potomac Park taking in a few more cherry blossoms

On the waterfront ...

All in all, one of those days that reminds you to appreciate living in the moment as you never know when it will end. xo

Cherrypicked Photos

Damian and I accompanied his mom and sister Gabby to Washington over the weekend to attend the National Cherry Blossom Festival. It rained cats and dogs the whole way down Friday night, then we were treated to two days of spring bliss in our nation's capital. Here are some of my favorite pictures from Saturday: 

Tidal basin

With my favorite South American beauty!

My guy

I couldn't relax because I was so afraid someone would fall in!

Hunk alert!

A strict “no smirking” rule was enforced near the Lincoln Memorial. 

First time seeing the Martin Luther King Jr. memorial -- very cool

Picture perfect

  

Also my first time seeing the Korean War memorial, a lovely tribute to the men who fought there, including my dad and his twin, Kenny 

Damian's poor sister spent much of the day driving around looking for parking that never came ...

Luckily we made it up to her with an incredible early dinner at Le Diplomate near Logan Circle!

We ended the evening by seeing the Petalpalooza fireworks at the DC Wharf -- a newly developed area just across the river from my brother Bill's Capitol Hill neighborhood ...

#ThrowBackThursday

My friend Greg posted a photo outside the National Gallery of Art’s East Building yesterday, and it reminded me that I used to work there -- my first job in Washington after leaving The Orange County Register in 1993. (I'd nearly forgotten!) I was crashing on Capitol Hill with my brother Bill at the time -- Terence lived just a few blocks away in an apartment he referred to as "the suckhole" -- while I tried to "reinvent myself" (at age 25!) after a few years in Los Angeles. The night I arrived on US Air (as it was known then) at National Airport (as it was known then), it was snowing like crazy as Bill and I raced home to watch Steffi Graf vs. Monica Seles in the Australian Open final. (Monica would win in three and be stabbed by a crazed Steffi fan -- who wasn't me -- weeks later.) In classic Bill fashion, he took control of my job and apartment hunt -- filling out my SF-171 and finding my efficiency in the Ravenel off Dupont Circle. The job didn’t last long -- I worked in the gallery’s library and I missed being in a newsroom -- but it was a fun experience and I will always cherish those five years my brothers and I turned the nation's capital into dateline: WALSHINGTON

My ultramodern computer 

Christmas on Capitol Hill, 1993

#FlashbackFriday

Vacation, all we ever wanted ... Rehoboth Beach, Del., circa 1978.

WA(L)SHINGTON -- A little Panda Diplomacy at the  Federal Bureau of Investigation, circa 1972 (film developed six years later!)

Forget About Going to Town

Damian and I were just in Washington and marveled that unlike New York City, it still has a big gay dance club. Not for long. Read HERE.

Don't Rain on My (Pride) Parade

I'm late and this has already been covered extensively on social media. But here's a quick postcard from our weekend in the nation's capital, where we attended Saturday's DC Pride Parade and checked out the Equality March for Unity and Pride on Sunday. 

As you may have heard, things were somewhat chaotic -- with organizers and attendees alike to blame. For starters,some people seemed to be confused that there were two disparate events with two different marching routes and festivals. The DC Pride parade was your garden-variety Pride celebration that Washington has every year that technically had nothing to do with the Equality march. 

We were lucky because a friend's apartment was right by the parade's path, so we had a convenient place to use the bathroom, get refills and cool off. 

But no sooner did we get to the corner of 14th and R streets, the lively parade mysteriously came to a screeching halt with no explanation. 

Eventually we heard protesters were to blame -- makes sense in this political climate -- only to find out they were activists who are ON OUR TEAM, protesting that organizers were too cozy with the police and corporations -- institutions that have a history of marginalizing minorities such as the LGBT community, immigrants and people of color.

“Capital Pride has consistently demonstrated that it is more interested in accommodating the interests of Metropolitan police and of corporate sponsors than it is in supporting the very communities it supposedly represents,” the group wrote in a statement announcing its disruption of the parade. 

 “Capital Pride is a sham, corporate scum don’t give a damn,” one person posted on Twitter with the hashtag #NoJusticeNoPride.

Um, OK. So it's a bad thing that major corporations want to be aligned with the LGBTQ movement, and that they are instituting sensitivity training so that we are treated with dignity and respect? And we should be hostile to the police who have carved out a safe route for us to have this annual celebration because some cops are horrible people? Needless to say, I think this all-or-nothing Bernie Bro mentality is naive, shortsighted and completely misses the point. But as exhausting as it is, I still find it hard to get too angry as I know their hearts are in the right place even as they misapply knowledge across the board. I just wish people would choose their moments more carefully because there are A LOT of people/events/organizations that deserve to be protested -- and this was hardly the time or the place. Eventually the cops (who were incredibly kind throughout) re-routed the parade, only to re-re-route it back to its original path and everyone had a fun time.

I shot this photo of Damian, who took the rest

Now on Sunday there was what I thought would be the equivalent of January's Women's March, which is to say a massive crowd on par with the 1993 March on Washington I attended right after I moved to town. The short march past the White House to the Mall began at 10 a.m. and Damian, Ken and I were still home watching Rafael Nadal humiliate Stan Wawrinka. (Bad gays, I know.) 

But when we finally got the Mall around noon, we were stunned to see that there was virtually no one there. The speakers kept speaking, but we ended up just hanging out with our visitors from Miami with whom we had arranged to meet up, Tory and John. (We were content to stay under a tree to keep from dying of heat prostration -- the 95 degree weather probably didn't help turnout.)

John, Tory, me, Damian and Ken (in back)

Eventually we realized the people who had marched had already ditched the speakers on the Mall and headed over to the street fair on Pennsylvania Avenue, where there were booths for all sorts of LGBT merchandise and activities.

.

Woof!

The Pointer Sisters, Miley Cyrus and others performed a little later in the day. But by then we were exhausted so opted for a great brunch at The Smith before we headed to (the air-conditioned bar) Trade for beers. The music and the crowd were fun -- but then before we knew it, it was time to head to Union Station for the ride home. While it didn't turn out to be the must-attend spectacle I was expecting, it felt good to be counted at a time when our presence feels almost mandatory.