This past weekend was Birmingham Pride, and my husband asked me if he could write a guest blog post for me about Pride and what it means to him. Below were his observations of the weekend.
I’m 42 and have no idea what music kids today listen to – indeed I had no idea who most of the performers on the main stage were. Saturday’s main stage line up I knew two out of 15 acts, and Sunday four out of 13. The DJ I saw on the main stage was a performer – not just filler between acts – this is now a thing apparently!
I hate loud bars where the music is turned up to 11. I want to have a pint and a chat with my friends. Not stand shouting at each other and randomly nodding because it doesn’t matter how hard we try we have no idea what was said. And then when we remember we aren’t telepathic and have a conversation on WhatsApp because it’s easier.
I also hate bars and places that are busy, rammed busy. The kind of busy that when you breath out someone stands in the space in front of you where your chest was a second ago.
There are some bars I like in Birmingham, my favourite gay bars are Eden for music and cabaret, and The Fountain and Wellington for old man boozers – somewhere you can sit down with a pint and packet of pork scratchings.