I realized ( or actually it was pointed out to me) that I haven’t written anything in a while. Which is true. So I thought I would let you in on the over the top events in Boston during June.
The Pride parade is tomorrow. To be honest it used to be over the top, but now it’s so politically correct that it makes me long for the good old days. Where are the topless Dykes on Bikes? Or Ramrod’s Giant penis spouting bubbles? I miss Homos on Harleys and the Jock Cock men who marched in leather jock straps only. However, it is always amusing to see folks from Red States who wander into the South End trying to get into a restaurant when a giant Drag Queen accosts them and hands them a rainbow condom. I love this time of year and I love the parade. I am glad to live in a State where this nonsense is loved and love itself is not adjudicated by the court system or the state government.
It is also time to start preparing for the annual Porkathon. It is an orgy I prepare once a year for all my friends, One Village at a Time people (not to be confused with the Village People….that’s the first paragraph) and my gay husbands. The event must be held on a Sunday night since my husbands who are in town this weekend spend every other one in Provincetown and can only just get back in time.
It is a cholesterol bonanza. Not only do I smoke 40 lbs of pork and then put it in luscious sauce well spiced with bourbon, but there is homemade mac and cheese, corn bread, baked beans, and of course pecan pie. I use butter at every opportunity. I love cream, whole milk, pounds of cheddar cheese, oh and mayo. For those of us with southern roots you must understand that everything is better with either mayo or bacon or both. Salt, pepper, sugar and bourbon are seasonings, and one should always use them in liberal amounts.
I do not usually eat the day of. It is one of the ironies of life that when you reach a certain age (and I’m there honey) your metabolism slows down. I have found that no matter what I eat or how much I work out my weight seems to be more tied to the stock market that to any caloric intake on my part. And besides, by the time of the event I’ve pulled enough pork, sampled enough mac and cheese etc. that I’m happy to let everyone help themselves.
So this week I began the porkathon. Armed with 40 lbs in the freezer I will set up the smoker and begin the roasting. I do this after midnight since we’re not supposed to bbq on the roof. But hell, for those who know me smoking pork is tame compared to the fireworks I set off. One year everyone had to duck for cover since one misfired and turned back on the crowd instead of up in the air.
Ahhhh June in the South End. A wonderful time of year unless you’re a pig.
Keep the faith y’all.
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