Reflections on the Macy's Day Parade

I've never really cared about parades one way or the other. There are a lot of aspects of US culture that I don't get. Topping the list are probably parades, spectator sports, racing, and lager. In Amherst, the Fourth of July parade has been a source of intense controversy between those who see it as a community celebration and those who see it as jingoistic militarism. My main goal with respect to parades, like the Holyoke St. Patrick's day parade, is simply to track them closely enough to remember to not try to drive anywhere within 30 miles of them.

This year, the UMass Marching Band is participating in the Macy's Day Parade, so the twitter stream of @UMassAmherst and @KSubbaswamy are full of references to the parade. So I'm reflecting on the parade more than usual. I like the marching band, although I rarely see them (since I don't pay any attention to the spectator sporting events where they typically perform).

All this is preface to the fact that I noticed when a news report talked about how the famous Macy's Day Parade balloons might be grounded due to the weather. The report mentioned how in the past crosswinds had driven balloons into light poles, killing and maiming parade spectators. (There's another good reason to stay far away from the parade. Along with the reminder of the Republican sell-off of the strategic helium reserve.)

What really struck me, however, was that all of the balloons were representations of corporate properties: Toothless, SpongeBob, Hello Kitty, etc. Now, I suppose there's nowhere you should be less surprised to see crass commercialism than a parade sponsored-by/named-after a department store. But there's still something creepy about how American culture is dominated by icons that are trademarked proprietary images of corporations. I propose that only public domain characters should be allowed in parade floats, from now on.

And with that, I'll put on my asbestos suit and enjoy the rest of my Thanksgiving -- giving thanks that I'm not standing on a street corner somewhere watching giant inflatable corporate trademarks floating over my head or knocking streetlights over on me. Or that I'm not even trying to drive anywhere.