Alphabet Day

I'm going to shave today.

I never shave on weekends. Skip it during the week if I think I can get away with it. I remember as a boy anxiously checking to see if my soft cheeks were showing any signs of stubble. Somehow the idea of shaving was oddly romantic. A sign that I was an adult, no better, a man. Well you better be careful of what you wish for because sure enough, I'm an adult, I'm a man, and I shave. Running a blade around your chins in the morning isn't quite the rush I thought it would be. So I'm no longer a man, I'm a guy - shaves when necessary and no more.

But I'm going to shave today.

This is special occasion shaving. I expect extra points for shaving on a Sunday, the designated day of rest. I haven't shaved for several days (I'm teaching summer school, I don't shave for summer school, I make a big point of that on the first day of class - see, I didn't shave, we're going to be relaxed here together) so I'm going to have to weed wack before I do the final close shave. But it's a special day and ..

I'm going to shave today.

Down in the city of Toronto, today, there will be just over a million people parading in the streets. It's tempting to think that they are all there revelling in the fact that it's our 39th anniversary today, but in fact they're there for some little festival called 'Gay Pride Day'. Oh, sorry LGBTQSAGLPCGFDay. I keep forgetting. Now, let me get this straight (pun intended) we were a couple before there was such a thing as alphabet day. They chose our anniversay not the other way round.

We aren't going down to the city for the day. It's too crowded and traffic is bad. So we celebrate our anniversary up here, we have the Gay Pride flag hanging over our porch and that's pretty much that. Next year we will be living in the city just a block off the parade route so no doubt we'll be there for the celebrations.

After breakfast at Cora's, if it's still sunny, we are going down to the waterfront. Joe went there a couple of days ago and scoped out an area where we can go together. It's accessible and, apparently, a nice stroll. We know that when people see us they will just see a couple of old guys spending time together, one in a wheelchair, one with the residue of a limp. They won't see two radical gay guys.

But what's nice is ... after 39 years ... if they did - they probably wouldn't care.

Now that, my dear, is worth a shave.