I must confess that to me, the Pride flag is a horrible looking thing, but I have bought one anyway to display on the weekend of the London march. Its meaning transcends any aesthetic objections I may have. Also, seeing as it's Pride month, I’ve chosen to share the story of how in 1982, I went to read in the park and left it changed forever, having failed to absorb a single paragraph. Me in a 1980 photobooth snap. In the spring of 1981, without consulting anyone, I dropped ou

In the summer of 1968, drawn by stickers exchanged in the school playground, I suddenly became interested in football. My father was...