Pride decorations shatter US-Denmark relations
Was it twerking drag-queen storytellers or cross-eyed horses that derailed micro-Denmark’s annual tolerance fest?
I had been planning to write about criticism of Danish policies on refugees, the environment, and civil surveillance in prominent American publications. But then I learned that there is already a diplomatic crisis raging between the two countries. Last week, the mayor of Copenhagen came down hard on her counterpart in tiny Solvang, California, the “Danish Capital of America” in the Santa Ynez Valley north of Santa Barbara and south of Michael Jackson’s Neverland ranch.
Settled by Danish immigrants more than a hundred years ago, Solvang developed into a tourist destination after World War II, with half-timbered houses, Danish windmills and bakeries, the Hans Christian Andersen Museum, the Elverhøj Museum, and kitschy souvenir shops.
What’s all the fuss about?
The reason for humiliating Denmark’s American satellite given by Copenhagen Mayor Sophie Hæstorp Andersen (no relation to Hans Christian) is that Solvang is disrespecting one of Denmark’s core values and branding themes: Pride, as in LGBTIA2S+++ Pride. Solvang threatens to disregard the old country’s staunch commitment to celebrating the rights of underrepresented sexual and gender identitities in June, aka Pride Month.
The City Council voted down Rainbow House Inc.’s proposal to festoon Solvang’s streets with rainbow banners and retouched rainbow crosswalks for the event. The Council voted 3-2 against, with Solvang Mayor Mark Infanti siding with the purportedly bigoted killjoys.
Pulling rank in Wokestan
So Hæstrop Andersen (referred to as “Lord Mayor” in snide quotation marks on the local News Channel 3-12 website) fired off a stern, condescending letter to Infanti lecturing him about all of the LGBT-supportive events that Copenhagen has held since the 1970s:
"You'll know already of Denmark's long-standing position as one of the most progressive countries in the world."
Hæstrop Andersen added that she was “shocked to read of the burning of the Pride flags shortly after Pride events last [2022] summer." Lars Henriksen, Political Chairperson of Copenhagen Pride, was also “stunned to hear about the opposition to Santa Ynez Valley Pride.” In a cutting riposte, Copenhagen Pride announced that it will replace every flag burned in Solvang with two flags this year.
Libelously misinformed
Why would Solvang officials begrudge this oppressed class its moment in the California sun, which delights the hearts of so many normie gawkers lining the streets of the real Danish capital every year?
Mayor Infanti responded equally forcefully to these aspersions: “That is incorrect. The Santa Ynez Valley Pride organization has already been granted rights to have a parade and event in town on June 24th." The flag-burning accusation is “also untrue,” he (assuming he goes by “he/him”) added. The incident took place elsewhere in the Santa Ynez Valley.
Then what’s the problem with rainbow décor?
The horses. That’s right, Infanti adroitly countered LGBT rights with animal rights: "The issue with the crosswalks is the minor violation of state standards for crosswalks and more importantly the safety of the horse drawn trolly [sic] (Honen) and other horses.” No fewer than three local horse trainers have informed the mayor that
“‘… horses perceive colors differently and could easily avoid, sidestep, refuse to cross or balk at the colors,’ potentially harming the horses and/or their riders.”
After all, which manifestation more authentically represents the pioneer spirit of the courageous Danish refugees who trekked across the snowbound Midwest to the Golden State: a trolley drawn by horses that cannot recognize rainbow symbolism or the gaudily and scantily dressed postmodern hipster “queer community” (in the words of Pride supporter Pastor Chris Brown of Solvang’s Bethamia Lutheran Church) cavorting and clamoring through the ersatz village square?
To say nothing of the symbolism of the horses’ likely droppings on the proud crosswalks if they did manage to overcome their disorientation, straining already to drag plus-sized American tourists through the fairy-tale atmosphere.
Jurisdiction tiff à la China-Taiwan
And besides, Copenhagen isn’t in a position to shame Solvang as the latter’s big-sister city. That honor goes to Aalborg, Denmark, which has apparently remained silent on the conflict. On the other hand, how much authority should Solvang have over Danish-appropriated imagery when only 10 percent of its current residents are Danish and “Infanti” doesn’t sound much like a Danish descendant?
So what to do when this sort of horseshit hits the proverbial fan? If some kind of intervention is necessary, the last royal visit to Solvang took place in 2011, by the late Prince Henrik, not the purest of Danes himself, and the royal family is now downsizing its titled emissaries.
Diminished hopes
Not to worry. Rainbow House Inc. is reapplying for a more modest makeover: a single rainbow crosswalk, along with banners, for two weeks rather than the full month. As Executive Director Matthew Cavalli (doubtless Danish on the maternal side) somewhat cryptically explained:
“Being a big tourist area, many tourist [sic] want to see openness, and in the exclusivity so that’s why we’re trying to do it."
So when the City Council votes on the new application on 24 April, if it can recover the spirit of tolerance that inspired the holiday month in the first place, then the bitter accusations of unDanishness and untruths can be chalked up to the peculiarities (from a human perspective) of equine ophthalmology.
Hold your horses
Not so fast. The latest dispatch on the impasse brings to light the more disturbing rumblings of another anti-crosswalk councilperson, Robert Clarke, a self-described “big mouth with no filter.” Clarke had worried about the more sinister threat of “gay grooming” in drag-queen story hour at a local toy store:
“I don’t know what it is about men dressing as women and twerking in front of small children that is inclusive.”
Whatever you want to say about Clarke, a member of the “Danish Brotherhood,” he accepts his own public identity: “I’ll be called a bigot tomorrow; I’ve been called a bigot before. I don’t care.” But since the first council meeting, he has taken on a more chastened tone. His apology to the mayor for “let[ing] my emotions get the best of me" offers a glimmer of hope for a nonviolent resolution to this standoff at tomorrow’s council meeting.