America's Thanksgiving Parade?!

Last Thursday was Turkey Day. And yes, I said "Turkey Day" and not "Thanksgiving Day" because that's exactly what it is. The final Thursday of each November is a day that we all get together with friends and family to do one thing, and one thing only - eat Turkey. The only giving of thanks that we offer is that half-hearted, half-assed recital of grace that your uncle gives at the dinner table each year. You know the routine; everyone loads their plate full of enough food to feed an entire pack of rabid wolves, while simultaneously bitching about how it's going to make them fat and gripping their fork tighter than a drag racer grips the steering while waiting for the starting lights drop. Before the "Ay" in "Amen" is uttered, the forks are in motion, and a moment of quiet falls over the land as the mouth-shoveling begins. THAT'S Thanksgiving.

Another Turkey Day tradition around these parts is, of course, America's Thanksgiving Parade. Woodward is blocked off and quickly becomes overrun with clowns, and beads, and marching bands, and floats, and fire engines, and giant caterpillar-things, and giant helium-filled balloons shaped like outdated cartoon characters, and celebrities (who the f is "Nuttin But Stringz" and why the f was he invited?), and big, steamy piles of horse doo. From miles away, one could hear the low rumble of the crowds, and catch a twinge of the anticipation in the air. Ah, yes, the parade. Come one, come all, to see the parade. Our parade is one of the largest in the nation, has been taking place each year for 82 straight, enjoys national TV syndication, and provides a showcase opportunity for our bad-ass city. Yes, it is quite a spectacle to behold.

I was even lucky enough to get my skinny little fingers on an All Access pass, which allowed me free rein of the parade route (it was a photojournalism-student kinda thing). I ventured up and down that damn avenue; walking, sprinting, ducking and dodging with my wanna-be-pro camera, didn't get hit by a single golf cart (grazes do not count as hits) and only impeded the progress of the parade once. Not bad for my first time, I think. I was even able to get lucky and grab a few decent exposures. You can see a few below, or click here for the complete set.






The experience of being down there, right in the middle of it all, was definitely "O-face" inspiring. The city was electrified by huge crowds of people who came from all corners of the metro area, representing all ages, races, and economic statuses. Many of them affectionately referred to me as "hey you, with the camera." I didn't have the heart to tell them that I had no gd clue about what I was doing, or that their pictures would not be making the 10 o'clock news. Well, not this year, at least.

So, yeah, parades are great, especially OUR city's parade. Or, are they, really?!

I forgot to mention, amid all of this talk about how wonderful the parade is... that I HATE PARADES! I haven't been since I was a chubby, red-haired tater tot with Velcro tennis shoes. I've been invited many times, but have never gone back, until now. My problem, and I will admit that I DO have a problem (one of many), is that I just don't get it. I don't understand parades. Please, you must help me understand. I'm begging you.

I mean, what is the point? Where does the fun exist in attending a holiday parade? Is getting up but-cracker-ass early on Thanksgiving morning (after partying the night before), fun? Is wearing 9 layers of long-underwear, so that you don't freeze to death while standing motionless on the side of the road for 3 hours, fun? Is waiving mindlessly to oversized gingerbread houses and balloons, fun? Is it the 2 hours that it takes you find you car and get to the highway afterward, fun? It must be Santa Clause, right? We're all waiting to catch a glimpse of the fat man in the red suit? I don't know. Honestly.

So it got me thinking of ways to improve the America's Thanksgiving Parade day experience, and I've come up with a few for next year. Please feel free to add your own.

The 30s In Progress top 10 ways to make the parade more interactive and exciting:

10. Local rock bands are allowed to march in the parade, as long as they have a tuba player.

9. Audience participation in the dance team routines is allowed and encouraged. You know that crazy aunt of yours would be out there on Woodward shaking her tail feather in a hot second.

8. Assign the horse shiat-collecting duties to the executives of the Big 3 (and maybe throw in the UAW president while we're at it). They've been feeding us a bunch of b.s. for years, so it's only fair that they spend some time cleaning up after themselves. And they're not allowed to use shovels, or wear gloves.

7. Invite former mayor Kwayme K to join the clown corp, and encourage the crowd to play "Where's Kwayme?" as they try to spot him amongst the other clowns. Oh, wait, no. Bad idea. Everyone would spot the clown in the bright orange jump suit. My bad.

6. Tie one snotty-nosed, bratty kid to each of the giant balloons before inflating them. What's that, kid, you're sorry, really scared, and want to get down? Too damn bad, you're up there now, and we can't get you down until we reach Hart Plaza in an hour.

5. Real bums are given red noses and encouraged to join the hobo clowns. Don't get too close, kid, that clown looks hungry.

4. Balloon escorts (the people who hold the strings and keep them from flying into the stratosphere) are allowed to drink vodka before and during the parade. Now, THAT would be entertaining.

3. The owner of the Detroit Lions, Ford Senior, who's blind loyalty, stubbornness, and overall incompetence is most responsible for the origination's decades of galactic futility, will be dressed in a meat suit and placed on a float with REAL lions from the Detroit Zoo.

2. Instead of throwing candy canes, Santa will throw frozen turkeys into the crowd. Look alive grandma, there's an 11-pounder flying at your head.

1. And the number one way to make the parade more exciting.... Clowns will no longer be handing out free beads to the crowd. If you want some free beads, the clowns get to see some free boobies!