This is another one from my college creative writing class. Just as in my jaw surgery essay, nary a comma has been changed from the original (which will be very evident when you read the very dated pop culture references).
The assignment was "Amateur Sociology" which I (along with several of my classmates) just used as an opportunity to rant.
Elsa K. Weidman
E325M
Paper #1-Amateur Sociology
January 28, 1998
Seventy- Six Trombones Lead the Big Charade
I hate to rain on a parade but blocking off streets for the purpose of watching beauty queens, politicians, marching bands, and giant-size paper mache characters is a bizarre tradition.
Who enjoys parades? The individuals in the parade (the parade participants) endure hours of waving at strangers. The marching bands lug heavy instruments while wearing uncomfortable, not to mention unattractive, uniforms. How about the float caretakers? These guys in matching UPS-style jumpsuits have it the worst. They work for months to create oversized replicas of characters like Charlie Brown, only to spend a morning gripping a rope to hold down the useless thing. They unsuccessfully attempt to wave at the sea of faces in the crowd while the audience focuses on the gigantic Garfield or Marvin the Martian or Barney. This is a job with much sacrifice and little recognition.
The only people more pathetic than the participants in the parade are the parade supporters who get up early to watch this display of nonsense. Families trek down to Main Street with nana, paw paw, and the youngsters to grab a front row spot for the festivities. Inevitably they will spend the morning mindlessly staring at people walking, marching, or driving down the main thoroughfare of their town.
The parade supporters also encompass an even more pitiful sub-group, the parade television viewers. They make the conscious decision to refrain from watching their other sixty channels to watch a parade. I suppose they like to look at it from all sorts of interesting camera angles.
Perhaps they particularly enjoy listening to commentators like Kathy Lee Gifford and Bryant Gumble explain the complicated process to them:
“ Here comes Miss Pre-Teen America and Miss Tiny Little Bitty America!”
“Wow, look at that tickle-me Elmo float! All the people under him are wearing little red jumpsuits! That is just adorable!
“Oh, watch out for the horse droppings, Miss Big Mama America!”
Perhaps the most unusual parade custom is waving. Waving generally signifies 'hello,' but not in this case. Instead, the parade participants are waving in an effort to say, "We are superior to you, the parade supporters. We were chosen because of our power and/or good looks to glide through the center of town so you could all stare at us." The parade goers stand trapped behind barriers waving back at these people as if to say, "We, the lowly parade supporters, worship you, the parade participants, and are not worthy to promenade through our own streets."
The pleasure these parade supporters receive, if any, is not worth the cost and inconvenience of a parade. The city must hire security to enforce the roadblocks and to deal with intoxicated or rowdy audience members. The whole town suffers from traffic complications. The city blocks off the main vein of the town in order to hold the blessed parade. Those that choose not to attend the parade must take all sorts of detours so as not to impose on the parade route, honking and causing noise pollution. As the parade goers set out on their adventure, these frustrated drivers pose a threat to their safety.
Parades are also dangerous. Sometimes the rows of onlookers stand twenty people deep. People risk death due to trampling. At a recent Thanksgiving Day parade, the float caretakers could not compete with the strong winds and a giant float escaped their grip. Several people avoided death but suffered injuries due to the parade mishap. Is it all really worth it?
The responsibility for destroying this practice is up to the people it hurts the most, the parade supporters. They must realize that it is okay to admit that they are not actually having fun, that many other methods exist to express the joy of gaining independence, celebrating the homecoming of old friends, or giving thanks for food.
I’ll admit I’ve attended and participated in my fair share of parades--even watched a few on TV. However, as I reflect on my parade experiences, I realize that I never felt happy while taking part in this tradition. I believe that others resent parades yet choose to hide their true feelings for fear their peers will make fun of them. These people need to come forward, as I have done, and say, “You’re right! Why am I standing here in this massive crowd fearing for my life, causing inconvenience, staring at these foolish floats, and pretending to have a good time?” Their efforts are our only hope for a parade-less world. I am convinced that the end of parades will lead to a more comfortable, classless society, and a world where waving simply means ‘hello.’
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