I just high-fived a wild teenager! I was on my bike, passing one of the trucks full of dancing, shouting high-school graduates when one of them (I didn’t even see his face) stretched out his hand and I just couldn’t leave him hanging there so I put up my hand and let the forward speed of my bike make it a high-five. Yes, it is that time of the year again when the city is filled with white dresses, black suits and happy smiles under white hats. Somehow the graduation weeks happen to coincide with the pride festival so the trucks full of partying youngsters drive down streets decorated with rainbow flags. There is general revelry just about everywhere in the city, music from a small festival in a park intermingle with the heavy base beats from the trucks and there are shouts and screams coming from all directions as I bike down the street. Last year, I felt old and bitter, I felt that the celebrating kids didn’t deserve it and that they were celebrating in vain as they were about to enter a world of unemployment but today is different. Perhaps I’m a happier person, perhaps its the good weather,or maybe, just maybe, there is simply so much joy in the air that I just can’t help but join in. I raise my fist in a gesture of encouragement and pedal past the next truck.