This was a good idea at first. The crowd was colorful, the cops were festooned with rainbow leis, everyone was having a good time. The cops closed the streets, the parade started on time, and for forty minutes, it was lots of fun. Veterans, librarians, cops, marching bands, a local elementary school, an anti-domestic violence group that hurled chapstick into the crowd with deadly force, a few drag queens, Or Chadash -- everyone was out there having a good time.
The problem was that every single one of the half million people attending the parade wanted to stand on that same street corner, which just couldn't hold everyone. The crush of bodies was not helped by the dim bulbs who showed up half an hour after the parade started, insisted that they were supposed to be marching in the parade (one, who worked for a local politician whose name I never did catch, was afraid that she'd lose her job if she didn't get to march, which makes me wonder how dumb you have to be to show up half an hour late for a parade on which your job depends), and started hurling verbal abuse at the cops who were pointing out that, at that point, it was physically impossible for anyone to move.
About fifteen minutes after the crowd started getting dangerous, I figured it was time to leave. The Pride Parade is fun, but not worth getting smooshed to death for. So I let the crowd sort of blurp me along until I got coughed out onto Belmont, where I admired some street costumes, watched a few more floats, and then grabbed lunch and went home.
Lots of fun, and I'd totally do it again. But maybe not at that particular corner.