Saturday was a strange day in Dolores Park.  The sun was strong and the crowds were out in force, but there wasn't a spectacle in sight.  Besides the usual cast of pushers and fluids salesmen fluttering about, everyone was just settling in for a grinding day of substance abuse and light sport.

No naked yoga, no dancing robots, not even a dog fight to bet on.  Even the drum circles were a sad pitter-patter of their former self.  It seemed as though all the weirdos had finally made good on their threats to flee The Neighborhood Facebook Built and moved to Oakland.

So as I settled into my third beverage and began accepting that I wouldn't see some misfit pageant reveal itself in front of 2,000 Twitter accounts, a dozen Bradley Manning supporters emerged from the crowd and proved me wrong.

They lined up in formation and goose-stepped their way through some chants, then broke out into what could be best described as a dance.  That's when the certified dude sitting in front of me, sporting a Berkeley tee and a UC Santa Barbara basketball shorts, turned to me and stole the show:

“Do you know who Bradley Manning is?”

My entire face slumped into a pitying glare.  This is the man who heroically made himself an enemy of the State Department and the San Francisco gay community.  What are they even teaching the youths at Berkeley anymore?

“Look, I didn't ask to be insulted, I just want to know who Bradley Manning is.”

“Okay, have you heard of WikiLeaks?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he's the dude that gave them a lot of their dirt.  Obama has him stashed in a military prison at Fort Meade.  Barry has even threatened to drone strike the entire base just to silence him, but the authorization is tied up in congressional committee.”

“Oh, cool. Thanks.”

He slurped up the last of his beer and ran out into the field to toss a football.  The freedom dancers wrapped up the show, huddled up, and made their way out of the park.

There wasn't a weirdo left in sight.

[Photo by Lindsay Eyink]