Given that this year’s Heritage of Pride (HOP) theme was live love be – and that its graphic was a psychedelic profusion of squiggles, spewing like spermatozoa from a rainbow fountain, was it any wonder that the Pier Dance featured raindrops and showers for the first hour? Oh, really, Mother Nature—as if that could stop a pierful of dancing queens.

From the West Side Highway all the way out into the Hudson, we were a vast sea of rainbow beauty, dancing into the night. Which is saying something right there—given that Dance on the Pier is a tradition born out of a time when the LGBT community could barely congregate, let alone dance openly. So each year, we dance on the Pier—as a reminder of what was denied us in the past.

And this year, we were more than ever—so many of us squished onto Pier 54 that every time you gained a little elevation and gazed across the expanse of us, this army of dancing love, you had to shake your head in admiration. Get a load of us, world—and listen up: this is how you do it. This is cooperative community. Learn from us, world.

We entered to DJ Joe G. working “Bleeding Love,” with its lyric “I don’t care what they say”—and there it was again, HOP’s theme live love be—because regardless of certain laws and sanctions that say otherwise, we have the right: to live, love, and be. And this Pier Dance was our statement, our communal celebration along the Hudson River.

With 100% of the proceeds benefiting LGBT Pride events, the Pier Dance pulls out all the bells and whistles, making this one party that’s nearly unrivalled for sheer magnitude. As one awestruck boy asked, “Is this party bigger than Black and Blue’s Main Event?” Well, one thing’s for sure—Pier Dance could hardly be more gay. For example, there was the Rainbow Regatta, a fleet of eight or ten vessels sailing just beyond the Pier’s western end, their rainbow banners billowing in the breeze as the sun prepared to set.

And then along came that fireboat, shooting five massive jets of rainbow-colored waterspouts—at which point, please, the crowd went berserk, cheering and shouting. It was nearly sunset then, and Joe G. had kept the crowd in the palm of his hand, foreplaying them into a writhing mass of anticipation—and when those waterspouts released—well, it was cathartic, to say the least.

There are so many elements to Pier Dance, not the least of which are the myriad volunteers, so cheerful and unflappable—well, save for one discombobulated missy who lost her cool when her drink tray tumbled. Heritage of Pride head Anthony Dean does a superb job at orchestrating all the pieces to create a nearly seamless six-hour show.

As the sun slipped behind the Jersey skyline, lighting guy Guy Smith switched on the lights over the floor—and suddenly, there was Tracy Young on the boards, like a bolt of lightning, like a horse out of the gate—and off we went, the herd of us galloping into the night.

There were flaggers on a stand along the Pier’s northern side, their multi-colored flags whipping in tandem with Tracy’s contagious set. That girl was on fire. We’re talking fueled by Pride.

The pier was packed—with everyone you’ve ever known. People such as Ron Perkov, Shane and Victor, Patti Razetto, Warren Rigg, Chad Richter, Alex Breitman, Tod and Gorm, as well as Marco from Venezuela and his group of eleven newbies to Pride, and a SoFla group of never-been-to-NewYork-befores, as well as two boyz from Oz who’d never before seen flagging and said to us, “We don’t have this in our country. What’s it called again?”

Honey, it’s called Pride—and it happens once a year, though it really should happen every single day and every minute of your life.

Behind us, just across the highway, there was the Empire State Building, one of HOP’s marketing sponsors, illuminated in lavender and white. Now there’s a sight for you—New York City’s signature icon glowing lavender: for US! Who says things aren’t getting better? We just have to keep on keeping on. Being proud and public every day.

The city’s skyline glowed—and so did Jersey’s—while Guy Smith sent washes of color over the crowd. It was a beautiful sight—so many people dancing as the turquoise banners whipped along the waterfront. And then word went round: “she” was about to come onstage. There’d been rumors. Was it really “her”? Or was it—

“Ladies and gentlemen: Jennifer Hudson.” And the crowd went crazy. That girl came out singing—“All Dressed Up In Love”—and kept on singing tracks from her soon-to-be-released album. Hands in the air, the boyz were screaming, singing along and cheering. And Ms. Hudson showed the love right back, keeping it real, being true—and making us know she’s one of us. She’s for real, that one—check her out here.

There was, of course, that song: “(And I’m Tellin’ You) I’m Not Going.” We all knew she’d sing it—and we all sang along with her—and then she was gone—just in time for the fireworks that burst overhead to the sounds of “Love Is In the Air,” of course— A splendid explosion of Pride that kept the crowd focused on the sky above as a rainbow of color shimmered down around us— And still we gazed heavenward, as if sending out our light to the galaxies beyond.

And that was Pier Dance. It’s a special party. A massive celebration of love and pride—one that you deserve to share at least once, if not once a year. Or as HOP had it, live love be all the way to next year.