31-Aug-98 -- For our Summer vacation this year, Alexandra and I spent a week in Provincetown, Massachusetts, a lovely town on the edge of Cape Cod which -- for those New Yorkers who are familiar with Fire Island -- is like a big Fire Island.  Like Fire Island, Provincetown is not really conducive to automobiles; the streets are narrow and ballooned in the Summer with pedestrian tourists, but nevertheless some people insist on driving through.  Almost everything is reachable within a short walk.

My friend, Gene Baugh, a gay dad like me, whose wedding I was a party of in September, 1997  in Columbus, Ohio, came with one of his five children (a daughter who is in her own coming out process).  They drove from Columbus to New York (ten hours) on the last day of July and the next morning we all drove up to Provincetown (which took us about seven hours).  We specifically went for the gay parenting conference, which this year was concurrently held in Provincetown (usually we go to a different city every Summer) with the third annual "Family Week".

Provincetown, for those who do not know, is a very gay town.  In fact, its year-round population of a few thousand is half gay and half-Portuguese immigrants, inasmuch as it has traditionally been a fishing village.  It also happens to be place where the Pilgrim's first landed in 1620, although they ended up settling in Plymouth.   There is a whale observatory there (we went to a slide show and learned lots when I volunteered one day with the camp). We didn't get to the whale watch (the boats were sold out for the trips that we were going to see with the other gay families), we understand that there were tons of sightings with each outing.

Each day there were camp activities for Alexandra to participate in. These included face-painting, tattoos, a mini Olympics, a pool party, and tours of the town. Many of these activities took place so other parents and I were able to attend workshops and meetings, but kids were also welcome to those. I also attended GLPCI board meetings (we just changed our name officially from Family Pride Coalition (f/k/a Gay & Lesbian Parents Coalition International).

Other things of interest that Alexandra and I did included renting a mountain bike with a "tandem" attachment. We were quite a sight riding through the narrow streets. We were not the only bike of it's kind but there weren't too many. Most of the other parents, unlike me, were coupled, so this would not work for them, and most of them walked (but I have a daughter who asks to be put on my shoulders after a few steps -- as a city kid she's so spoiled by taxis). Alexandra and I went to the beach several times but we preferred going to the pool most days. Both Alexandra and I got great tans and even though it was pretty hot every day the humidity was tolerable with the sea breeze and the bugs were also at a minimum (thank goodness I like to eat garlic). It was nice to even run into some gay parents that I have met several years ago when I first came out of the closet and to see how far they've come in their development and pride.  We also went to go see a drag show, which Alexandra practically slept through, but at which there were other children in attendance. Some of the drag shows, I was told, are very interactive and great for kids (not even one curse words, just lots of double entendres).

Alexandra made a lot of new friends and both she and I saw a lot of old friends (each year -- this was our third -- is like a family reunion). Some particularly poignant moments were when Alexandra learned that "lesbian" is not a bad word. She also saw a lesbian interracial wedding taking place in the garden of the Unitarian Universalist Church in which I was attending a workshop. A lot of the workshops were specific to gay parenting issues, including many of the gay parents who have adopted interracially. I actually encountered a lesbian attorney from Boston who also has an interracial child who is biologically related to her. And I thought I was the only gay parent with a biologically related interracial child! It seems that her Haitian ex-girlfriend had a Haitian lover whose brother-in-law donated the sperm.

It was interesting to meet some of the locals. The town is so remote and so small, yet it has so much character. The town closed up pretty early at night but lots of people lingered on the streets. It was truly nice being in the "country" for a little while, but I missed New York. I ran into a few people from the New York area that I knew, which was quite a surprise. Still others looked familiar from Greenwich Village. I met lots of people who were from Boston, some of whom come every weekend, and many others from the Northeast and Midwest, although most of the people I met were not there for the gay parenting conference.

The place where we stayed had a pull-out couch and a queen-size bed where Gene's daughter and Alexandra slept. The bed was a mattress on the floor of the loft, which Alexandra liked having to herself since it was too short for me to crawl around there much and Gene, who is 6'5", would definitely not be able to maneuver through. We had a kitchenette and Gene made pancakes every morning. We had a fridge and other necessities, but ate at the quaint restaurants and snack bars all over the town. It was a week to be very social. We went to several dinner parties at guests houses where friends and board members stayed (some with private beach access where Alexandra was able to continue collecting shells), and had lots of BBQ's.

Everyone was in a festive mood throughout the week, even though two establishments did not want kids in and we had a bit of a protest. Apparently they disallowed kids for the wrong reason (in our opinion) -- i.e., they got pegged and almost lost their liquor license for selling to a 17 year old last year (as if that had anything to do with the infants we had with us). The hotel/restaurant/pool establishment called the Boat Slip will not be patronized by us and we want to advertise that far and wide. Another establishment in Provincetown that was not kid-friendly was Fat Jacks, a restaurant which, wishing to keep children out, allows for smoking to exempt itself. It's ironic that the drag shows are more kid-friendly.