Call Me a Racist if You Must

After a lovely dinner with my old friends John and Cathy (who introduced me to my Recognized-by-the-State-of-California-Domestic-Partner, Adam) in the West Village at Sazerac House (I had Schnitzel)---I decided to take a walk down Christopher Street, the former center of Gay Manhattan (Before Chelsea was anything more than a weird area to get film developed)---

Christopher Street is Black. Yes. I mean, I don't care. But it struck me in an odd way. Like what many white people must have felt in the 1970's when they went back to their former urban neighborhoods they abandoned for the suburbs. Though, there is nothing of the sense of decay going on Christopher Street.

For me, the interesting thing sociologically is---if something gets abandoned and it's kind of cool, the Black crowd will certainly gladly take over. This is a good thing.

The black gay crowd dresses up just like most black youth. To me, that was what was so bizarre on Christopher Street. It used to be all tight jeans and tiny T-shirts. Occasional boots and leather guys. Some drag queens. Now, it's all Tupie. Why didn't anyone tell me? Is everyone too PC to say, "Christopher Street is Black."
Or are people saying this inadvertently when they say, "Let's go to Chelsea"?