Parades? Really?

Many of my friends and family know that I have a seemingly unexplainable interest in and fascination with parades.  I'm sure many of them ask themselves "Why does he always have to watch the Tournament of Roses parade every New Year's Day?"  Well I thought it might be nice to explain that in more depth, for anyone who might be interested. It was brought to mind for me the other evening when I had a really nice dinner with my friend Jackie.  After we ate, we were hanging out on my balcony just talking about life and random thoughts.  I found myself telling her the story and realized maybe this would be a good venue to share some of those memories that will make my interest more explainable to those who might otherwise just think it was just a strange quirk.

To truly understand, I must start at the beginning, literally.  I was actually born during a parade.  The small Ohio town where I was raised had a fall festival every year, the Holmes County Antique Festival.  It was always the first or second weekend of October and featured all kinds of events from antique displays in all of the main street storefront windows and people dressing in old fashioned costumes, to a weekend long antique sale and auction.  There was always a stage near the town square featuring all kinds of entertainment and three parades over the course of the weekend.  Saturday evening was always the Fireman's parade featuring fire trucks and rescue units from all over the state, complete with full lights and sirens blaring.  Sunday at noon was the parade of antique cars with participants from all over the country, and later that afternoon was the grand parade with all of the bands, floats, and visiting queens from other festivals around the Midwest.  It was during this grand parade that I was brought into the world.  I remember my mother telling me the story of how the doctor was watching the parade along the main street and kept calling the hospital periodically to see if she was ready yet.  When she was, he came to the hospital and there I was.  Being the youngest of six, I guess he trusted she knew what she was doing and only came for the actual final moments of the delivery.  It was because of these converging events that, as I grew up, the Antique Festival became my birthday celebration every year, even when it didn't actually fall on the actual date.

Thinking back on my younger days, I remember how I used to think that it was all for me.  What a wonderful delusion that a town would put on a whole festival for my birthday.  I don't think I ever missed a year, every parade come rain or shine.  It became an ingrained tradition for me, and in some ways for my family as well.  Although I doubt anyone else felt such a special connection between the two events.  In junior high and high school I marched in the parade as a member of the band playing sousaphone.  Yeah, I was a band fag too! But that's for another post on another day. There were even two years that I got to be the parade chairman, putting together the event including recruiting the bands, selecting and finding sponsors for professionally built floats, and making sure it was as grand as I could make it.  Both years got rave reviews including articles and letters to the editor in the local paper touting what great parades they were.  Clippings still exist in a box somewhere, but it seems a lifetime ago now.

Over the years my passion for parades led me to attend a number of much larger events, including the Pro Football Hall of Fame parade in Canton, the Pegasus Parade in Louisville, Sea Fair in Seattle, and even the trip of a lifetime to the Tournament of Roses parade.  Going to Pasadena and being able to actually work on a float and then have grandstand seats on New Year's Day was the culmination  of my parade going experiences.  Nothing will ever be able to top that!  I still remember that whole vacation as the best time I ever had.  I met some famous people and even got mistaken for John Candy by a group of non-English speaking Japanese tourists during a visit to Universal Studios.  At one point during float decorating I actually thought my brother was going to pee his pants when Miss Puerto Rico picked me out of literally thousands of people in the float barn to befriend and ask for assistance.  One of many priceless moments during that whole experience.

In recent years I have been relegated to watching the Rose Parade on television, usually alone unless a friend or family member graciously agrees to tolerate watching with me.  It remains a moving experience for me every year as I not only enjoy the parade itself, but allow the flood of memories and corresponding emotions come pouring back to my thoughts.  I suppose parades, and perhaps pageantry in general, have been a formative part of my inner being and has helped make me into the person I am today, for better or worse.  I have even been given the solemn promise by my BFF Julie that, after my ultimate demise, a portion of my cremated remains will be taken to Pasadena and covertly placed on the queen's float so that I will, at long last, be able to experience actually riding in and being an actual part of the event itself.  And yes, I know that the selection of the queen's float will leave much room for interpretation and speculation.  So be it!

Now as I sit here and contemplate the possible subtext and hidden meaning behind parades and pageantry having such an impact on my life, I can't help but think that ultimately it must be some form of deep metaphor. Perhaps it means that life is much like a parade.  It can be entertaining and beautiful, full of the entire spectrum of colors and sounds.  And as we all progress through our lives we try to be and identify with various aspects of the parade.   Sometimes we are the high stepping marching band wanting nothing more than to bring rouse the crowd to its feet, and occasionally we want to be admired and appreciated and possibly even voted most beautiful entry.  Yet as all of these positive and uplifting parallels cause me to pause and contemplate that life isn't always easy or pleasant.  And then I remember that no matter how wonderful the parade can be, once in a while you end up having to be the person who scoops up all the shit from the horses!  It makes me realize that everyone has their lot in life.  We all can't always be the trophy winning entry, but even the shit shoveler plays their part in making it all work!  We just go on strutting our stuff in our own individual and unique ways and hope that maybe someone benefits from the contribution and enjoys the overall.  If acknowledgment and accolades come from time to time, then all the better!