When I read Paul on Further Ramblings of a N. Irish Magyar talk about this past weekend's Gay Pride Parade in Budapest -- and the march organizers' advice on how to remain incognito ("basic camouflage techniques: hats, sunglasses, or even a costume") -- I couldn't help but think of the pride events we had this past weekend in New York City. The unofficial "dyke march" was on Saturday afternoon. Hundreds if not thousands of women strode down Manhattan's streets on the way to Washington Square Park. Gay. Proud. Several women ran ahead of the front of the group and locked arms to block cars, protest-style, from crossing their path. But they didn't really need to because New York City police officers blocked traffic for them. As flow of people pooled around the arch at the entrance of the park, a big burly cop pulled out his bull horn and called out, "this is a great day, enjoy your march." I know it sounds like I'm making it up, but I swear that as he lowered his bullhorn he was on the verge of crying. I can be as cynical as the next gal about the state of gay rights and such in this country, but damn Bill Frist. Damn Jerry Falwell. We're lucky, we are.