Wow — I’m managing or tending to so many Web sites I think my head could blow up. I’ve got my day job over at pnwlocalnews.com, my blog at Wired Journalists, I’m trying to build a wedding Web site for my fiancée and me … and then there’s this one.
I’m obviously really busy and last Friday I thought I could use a break. And naturally the first three words that came to mind when looking for a way to relax were: Gay. Pub. Crawl.
The pub crawl part was predetermined. My brother’s 21-run had been much delayed (for a number of reasons) so I decided I’d take him out on the Hill. I figured the War Room, Barca Lounge — all the usual spots. But then, some ignorant asshole had to go and anonymously threaten a ricin attack against 11 gay bars on Capitol Hill. Look: I’ve got enough of a problem with arbitrary terrorism, but when a group of people are targeted because of something they can’t control … I just felt compelled to respond.
Not like said “response” was anything insanely difficult — just a matter of throwing back drinks and belting out Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody.”
The night was also an occasion to raise a few glasses to the staff of the Seattle P-I, who found out on Friday (along with the rest of us) that they’re being put up for sale, which, in journalism speak is as Twitter user Will_Bunch says, “like when your parents said that your elderly dog was ‘going away to a farm.'” (This P-I news was bad enogh, but it was also bungled horribly by those in high places and I plan to blog about it at Wired J later in the week.)
Anyway, kudos to the people who hastily organized the crawl, too. To my knowledge, no one succumbed to any ricin-based effects and it sounds like it may have been a sort of blessing in disguise. The bartender I talked to at The Elite (one of only two bars we made it to — the night went fast) said he’d never really seen a line out the door.
I posted a bunch of pics of the crawl to my Flickr account (one of which wound up on the CHS blog) for anyone to enjoy.