Living between Place de la Republique and Bastille, we get our (un)fair share of demonstrations. Over the years we've witnessed thousands of marchers stomping their feet and shouting at the top of their lungs for many worthy (at least in their opinion) causes.
This year, though, we've been spoiled. For some reason, it has been very quiet, that is, until yesterday. The parade that marched down our boulevard made up for the long silence.
I was warned by the owner of the organic store that the demonstration that was going to stomp down our boulevard would get very loud and that 40,000 earplugs were handed out. My friend at the crepe stand told me it was the gay pride parade.
So, though I knew what was coming, I was surprised that the walls were quaking and the earth was shaking, and when we stepped out on the street, we were blasted with techno music.
I couldn't understand who decided that gayness had to be deeply enmeshed with techno-ness. Though if that's what it takes to help people be open minded towards the subject, I guess then it is a positive marketing tool, albeit it to future-very-deaf people.
But then I looked at the very young crowd (median age being about 15) that cluttered the street, as well as the recycling containers and bus stops, and I thought to myself that this is the weirdest gay pride parade that I've ever seen.
And then today, I was told by my well-informed hubby that it wasn't the gay pride parade but the techno parade. Aha. My friend misinformed me and it colored my perception of the events.
But never mind, the award for most daring dancer goes to this kid. He rocked his world freely, wildly and managed to keep his feet firmly planted on the recycle bin, without nary a helping hand from his friend who watched his back.
Now if I could be so brave and shake my booty like that 10 feet off the ground.
