Jan. 21st, 2017

sistawendy: (mad woman)
Last night, the Tickler & I went to a trance night put on by the Psy Ops crew at Substation. I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by the music and, eventually, the vibe. I say eventually because when we first showed up around 2200, the crowd was full of young men who looked like bros, but felicitously they didn't act that way. As the Tickler pointed out, the real ravers probably showed up late because it took them time to put together their awesome outfits. The Swedish headliner seemed a bit wanky with the drops, we thought, but the supporting crew was solid. I ran into a group of three current and former co-workers. A+, would groove to this crew again!

The Tickler took us back to her place, but I was tired enough from the booty-shaking that I now owe her a proper tickle fight. Oh darn.

Sleep and oatmeal later, it was time to get on the bus to the Women's March. Ha. The first one was, of course, full. The second one was nearly so, but we took it to the International District and started walking east toward the start of the march. Ha. Progress became pretty much impossible, so we decided to hang out on the sidewalk, munch tofu banh mi (the Tickler wanted to support the businesses whose foot traffic we'd stopped), and wait for the tail of the march to go by before joining as the police had requested. HA! We watched other marchers go by for an hour before we decided to fuck that and joined in.

Many, many fabulous, often geeky or punny signs about every issue under the sun. I'll let you search for them. I didn't have one, but if I had, I think I would have chosen one about the ACA. Given how many people I know who depend on it, and how many trans people depend on it, it's dear to my heart. And it's astonishing how many Trump voters don't, or at least didn't at the time of the election, know that the ACA is, if fact, Obamacare. I've said it before: we need to do a better job of fighting the propaganda, people.

It's remarkable that the Tickler and I saw only one person whom either of us knew until we got to the march's end at the Seattle Center, three miles or so of walking later. Nothing like that ever happens at Pride. That's how big the Women's March was.

The police exercised a light tough to the point of invisibility once the march got going. I spied five or six of them in an out-of-the-way corner of the Seattle Center just shooting the breeze. Weird, but a relief. The Tickler pointed out that the the range of ages, i.e. near the theoretical limit; the preponderance of women; the sheer size of the march; and oh by the way its permit may have had a calming effect on the SPD.

I saw one lone counter protestor, a young man standing on a corner, holding a printed Trump sign at about chest level. He wasn't making any noise and he looked a bit nervous as tens of thousands of people walked past him and ignored him.

Once we reached the Seattle Center, the co-workers from last night plus one appeared, but the folks we were trying to meet up with didn't. We got off our feet for a blessed hour. The Tickler photographed giant puppets, of which she's an enthusiastic builder. We got & ate fries, and then we went our separate ways.

Was this good for morale? Sure. Will anybody in the Trump administration or Congress take notice and modify their behavior in a desirable way accordingly? Maaaybe. Am I glad I did it? Hell yes! But it's all about the follow-up, folks.

ETA: On the bus home I got to explain what "cis" means to another marcher. Teachable moments, I am all about them.

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