An Open Letter
Dear Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade Gurus,
A parade is marching bands, floats, and the occasional ginormous balloon (carnage optional). A parade is various B-List celebrities freezing their tuchises off because they've got sucky agents/need the work waving like stepford beauty queens on the "Candyland" float.
Broadway musical numbers? Not. A. Parade.
So could we knock that crap off already? I want to see the Podunk, Arkansas Fighting Wombat Marching Band. I want to see chunky girls twirling flags. I want to see frozen smiles and even more frozen fingers forming Miss-America waves. They probably sold enough candy bars to rival the GDP of Zaire to get to that damn parade, and their entire hometown is watching them. Guess what. They do not want to see some twit in horrible makeup lip-synching to some godawful song. They want to see their Fighting Wombats. On TV. For more than 13.4 seconds. And they could be on for more, if you would cut. The damn. Broadway. Numbers.
Sincerely,
Sweet Charity Shouldn't Be In A Parade Unless It's Being Played By Kids In Bad Uniforms
posted by Special Sauce @ 9:37 AM
2 Comments:
I didn't spend mine like StephRanger (so much more the pity), but I did hang out with Mom and Dad and the ParceSis and ParceBroInLaw, plus the nephew and the proto-neph/niece (who is due the weekend after Beltane!).
I no longer watch the parade because it's as you said, Sauce.
I have one more week of NaNo. HELP.
Seriously.
One band, that they made all this fuss over- and how their band director camped out on top of a pizzaria for umpteen nights to raise 30 grand was on for LESS THAN TEN SECONDS.
If I were from their hometown, I would be royally furious.
(Sauce, posting anonymously from work.)
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