It’s late on Sunday night and I can’t for the life of me remember the details of the anecdote that I was going use as the hook for this post. ,Damn. ,It was something to the effect that as a cub reporter the young Robert Benchley had been sent to cover one too many parades and ended up writing a piece that pointed out that once you’ve seen one parade, you’ve seen them all, and there really isn’t anything else new to say after reporting that “all the children are rosy-cheeked” for the hundredth time. Or maybe it was James Thurber. ,Damn. ,Anybody?
Anyway, just for the record I’d like to add that even though it’s true that there’s nothing new I can say about parades, I enjoy them just fine nonetheless. In fact just today we spent the afternoon with friends watching Stamford’s Thanksgiving parade, and it was just fine, thank you very much. It’s fun not only because I happen to like rosy-cheeked children, but it’s also a real big time parade, complete with Macy’s-sized balloons, fresh kettle corn vendors and yes, even a small herd of fez-wearing Shriners driving those little cars. How can you top that for good old fashioned, all American kitsch?
Well you can’t, and what’s more, I just might even post some pictures of my own rosy-cheeked kids at that parade. So there. ,Damn it’s late., Gotta go.