Transmogrified – pt. 2


The Lyft driver let me off in front of the IndyFringe building on the far end of Massachusetts Avenue, in downtown Indianapolis. I appreciated the driver allowing my request to smoke pot in the back of her car-as long as I kept the window down and aired it out. They aren’t supposed to be doing that, I take it, and I wouldn’t have asked, but I was running a bit behind and had just found out that day of the LGBT social, so my pre-arrival time to get self medicated before leaving had been nixed. And I wasn’t going to smoke at the event. They didn’t need any more red lights to alert a possible uneasy public.
‘Look over there-the she-hes is smoking crazy rope!’
No, I wouldn’t burden them with that problem. I left the Lyft driver and began walking up to the crowd, feeling a bit off balanced, somewhat from the weed and somewhat from my realization of the spectacle I might be to them. None of these people knew the Reverend, from the Church; None of them knew me as a person, or an acquaintance from the streets of downtown we all tend to wander through. I was dressed casual conservative and could have easily been some huckster there to give the crowd a bunch of shit, like I’m sure they face every day from homophobes, Ultra-Christians and general Nazi-types. They didn’t know of my intention to be more educated on their lives, concerns, etc. as a member of the Indy LGBT scene. They didn’t know I was there to report on this event for my blog. On top of all that, I’m usually somewhat sheepish in crowds and feel out of place in the community-any community-wherever I go. They have medications for that, I know, and maybe someday I’ll start taking more prescribed drugs.
Yeah,  maybe.

I couldn’t have felt more welcome as I meandered through the crowd of blessed, societal misfits. A lot of the crowd reminded me of those fragile, emotional souls I’ve run into at local open mic poetry readings. People who feel different from the categorized ‘norm’ of our society. People battling with emotional issues who quell some of their depression and anxiety by expressing themselves and feeling love from within a kindred clan. Individuals at this event read poems, socialized with one another and as for me, I went with the moment and did what I came there for; I talked directly to the source, the Transgender brother/sisterhood. I met people and took pictures and got to meet the individual in charge of putting this affair on for three years. This was the first time the social had been held at IndyFringe and it seemed to be an ideal location. I asked the man in charge his take on the acceptance (or lack of) from the Gay citizens in Indianapolis. As I noted and stated to him, the online article I’d read reported a recent, small division forming between the gay and Transgender communities. He said the Trans community (if he could speak for them in toto) in Indy felt very much akin to the Gay and Lesbian community in Indianapolis and feels an acceptance of all diverse cultures here. This was a positive thing to hear and now I could dispel anything the online article had tried to startle me with…
Startling online articles.
Oh, how they’ve become a cancer on our society. Certain online sites work so hard to create clickbait that will cause a weakening audience to come back again and again. Perhaps, somewhere in the U.S. there is a city or state or region that show a small growing division between local Gay/Lesbian and Trans groups…but not here in Sleepytown. In spite any tarnished medal this city had been handed by the actions and behavior of our current Vice President and former Governor, Mike Pence, Indy people in by huge percentages welcome a diverse, cultural community. The citizens here are not a barrel full of Old Testament Christians ready to torch the wicked.

The TG social was educational but after I left, I knew I would slowly fall back into the political vat of misery and nonsense taking place in D.C.; the Crimson King continues to romp the globe, mad as a hatter, pissing off dignitaries and heads of countries left and right. Our ineffective Senate and House nervously wait to see what new pocket of chaos Donald Trump brings to their door. Orwell’s classic “1984” seems mild compared to the groundwork we are setting ourselves up for but few seem to fight it. Will anyone stop the spiraling loss of rights and hope in Amerika?
A new beacon on the horizon. Alt-right protesters planned a rally downtown the same day as Gay Pride, the upcoming Saturday…the day I had a scheduled appointment, which would make me miss Pride. My urge rose to seek out in person, that which the internet would try to tell me took place. I decided to forgo the appointment-I could reschedule. I had to seek out the Alt-Right, directly, to witness them in person and hear what they had to say.
…and that happened days later.


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