FINALLY, we made it downtown on New Years Day for the Mummer’s Parade. Seven hours of eye candy. I’ve never seen so much satin. So many feathers! So many work boots spray-painted gold. So many straight men in drag.
It makes the Gay Pride Parade in New York look like a procession of bankers. Our friends, Robin and Tom, jaded Brooklynites, told us it topped the Carribbean Day parade, with the added bonus that there were no assaults with deadly weapons. At least not this year. But the Mummers Parade is affectionately known as The Two Street Brawl.
I snapped some photos with my phone, and of course they came out looking like photos an ungifted photographer would snap with her phone. So I went on flickr and found some images that did the parade justice. I am so grateful for the people more gifted than I who are willing to let me share their images.
Eyeballs buzzing from long exposure to the eye candy equivalent of Jujubes, we headed toward South Street, in search of quintessential cheesesteak sandwiches for our Brooklyn friends. Jim’s Steaks had a line out the door and around the block. So we settled for a pub across the street. Sub-standard fare. I got a chicken cheesesteak — one of my favorite culinary oxymorons — that reminded me of the last time I tried to chew cardboard. (Don’t ask.) Robin and Tom don’t know any better, and they didn’t complain. But Jack and I wanted to do something to rescue this New Year’s celebration meal. That’s when I remembered a little place just down the street, where we stopped in one night and found three things on the menu: butterfly chips (look at the ruffles on those wench costumes and imagine they’re one long frilly potato chip), cheese fries, and funnel cakes. That’s where we headed for dessert. Lo and behold! The menu had expanded. We closed out Mummer’s Day with a perfect dessert:
It’s beginning to feel a lot like Groundhog Day. I’m premiering two new fractured fairy tales at the Folklore Society of Greater Washington Mid-Winter Festival, which takes place on Saturday, February Two. Look for the Groundhog Edition of What Snoo! in your inbox in the days to come. If you’re not signed up for my newsletter and you want to be, shoot me an email to that effect and I’ll take care of it: email@example.com