By Mark David Blum
Like eating a baked potato or buying milk at $7.00 per gallon or even chomping down last year’s popcorn, for some people, there are certain Fair traditions that regular fairgoers do as a matter of rote and routine. Before you know it, you can get caught up in your own “rules” and “schedule” when neither is supposed to apply in that environment.
It dawned on me that I too had gotten sucked into one of those routinezed schedulized mandatory things to do at the Fair. No, I do not mean complaining. What I refer to is the 6:00 p.m. daily parade. On Saturday whilst sweltering under 209 degree skies, the parade came by. As always, it is one large revolving billboard, splattered amongst a few marching bands and perhaps an interesting character or two. For some reason, Elvis always seems to make an appearance but his connection to the Fair or New York still remains a mystery. As I watched the same Speaches strawberry tool on by as though it was a regretted chore, followed by the same tractor that was there the year before and the year before that, I began to wonder why do I waste my time in this heat and crowd?
Three parades now, missing were Uncle Sam (aka in civilian life, Hon. Anthony Paris) and little Sam. Some bands were spectacular, others consisted of 3 members. Not a single critter came on by except for the State Police who were clearing a pathway. The Fair is full of cows and pigs and sheep and critters of every ilk but only a butthead in a tractor with a fake wilding horse was what we got. Where was the entertainment for the children? Was this not a family friendly Fair?
I will admit that I was completely blown away by a special participant in Saturday’s parade: Named aptly the Big Apple Gay and Lesbian Band. Following a banner held by children, two obvious transvestites twirled their batons ahead of a band that was dressed no different from any other high school marching band. For a bunch of gays, they had no taste in clothes. For a Family Friendly Fair Atmosphere that shuns shoes, it was definitely an anachronism.
Yes, I love the bagpipers and yes I love the Police and Fire Marching Band. Yes also I love meeting up with friends and foe alike. (Cops love their free Dinosaur feeding frenzy as a perk for the job). But dear friends, eating steak and lobster every day kinda makes you long for something more.
I found it, that’s for sure; at the bandstand next to the Collesium Under the giant tent on Sunday and again Monday I was intrigued to hear a band called Emerald City. They brought the house down and if I were gay, I would do that boy Billy in a heartbeat. With everything joyful, there has to be sacrifice. They start again tomorrow Monday at 6:00 p.m.; which is unfortunate because it runs simultaneously with the start of the Marching Billboard at Chevy Court.
From a blurb I heard on the radio, equal weights of diamonds and emeralds results in a higher value for the Emerald.
Diamonds may last forever and the 6:00 p.m. parade will be there another day. It is interesting how so much a slave to routine I had become that I missed some other Fair gems.
If you want to find me Monday during the parade, it will be nowhere near my usual hangout. I am headed to Emerald City.
P.S.: At some point I hope to see a funeral parade; a riderless horse followed by a solemn funeral dirge. There has been a loss at the Fair. Captain Matt’s is no more. Once, ground zero for the Who’s Who of New York Politics, is now gone. A thirty year tradition is no more.
