One of the big controversies in Provincetown this summer involves complaints by fifty-third generation descendants of Puritan about nudity and public sex in the far reaches of the Herring Cove Dunes. The good news is that my worry that gay marriage is a straight conspiracy to stop gay sex is apparently and happily unfounded.
For those of you who would, of course like to know the exact coordinates of the sexual activity, check your GPS, Gay People Sex. And don’t forget: if it’s three, let it be. The poison ivy, not the ménages. The poison ivy leaves are just turning a very helpful red alert.
The National Park Rangers can divert giant over-sand motor-home behemoths just by putting up the flimsiest of strings and posting “Piping Plover Nesting Area” signs. People honor those areas. My suggestion is that the over-worked and underpaid civil servants rope off sexually active areas of the dunes and put up “Gay Sex Frolicking Area” signage. After the initial posting, there would be no need for time consuming beach patrols.
Everybody sing: [to the tune of “Oh, the farmers and the ranchers must be friends] “Oh the gay folks and the Puritans must be friends.”
The rangers have better things to do with their time. On a recent high tide, made higher by the pull of a full moon, an elderly woman was stranded on a spit of sand and called for help. One man called the Park Rangers, who said they were not in the business of rescue. He found another man, with a small rubber dinghy who was ready to row out to the woman. At that moment, the Coast Guard arrived and would not allow the attempted rescue, because the man did not have enough life-jackets on board.
If only the elderly woman on that tiny strip of sand had stripped naked and done a suggestive hoochee-koo. She would not have had to wait for the ebb tide or suffer from hypothermia.
In international news, Angelina Jolie gave birth to her twins. Mother and children are doing well. Seconds after they were born, the twins were handed to Brad Pitt, who reportedly hugged them to his naked chest. Into the world through Angelina’s legs and then placed on Brad’s chest! What a charmed life those children already lead! I am happy for them, and yes, just a little jealous.
The Jolie/Pitt blessed event augers well for the beginning of Gay Family Week here in the town of P. We are just coming to the end of the first ever Girlsplash! Week. Organizer hopes that it will grow as big as October’s Women’s Week. Lynette Molnar says, “In a few more years, it will be like Women’s Week but without the Polartech.” Pool parties, whale watches, and dance parties were some of the highlights.
I am all set for Family Week. After the big GLAD summer party at the Pilgrim Monument, where I will be their honorary auctioneer, I will go pick up the two zip kids I have rented for the week. I am on a waiting list for what they tell me is a “babe-magnet” adorable six month old girl named Karla. I’ve already got a double wide stroller fully loaded. For me it also doubles as a walker.
The most wonderful part of the week is the tons of teen kids of gay parents. They are feisty, smart, political, very fashionable and they love being with each other. This summer is my 84th season performing in Ptown. Thanks to their gay parents, the way these kids are maturing, I can retire happily in a few seasons.