| We arrived shortly before 8 AM, an hour before
the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade was to start. A light rain was falling as
we took our seats in the grandstands, along with parents from various bands
in the parade. Two years later, we would arrive at 5 AM, my
kids would be marching in the parade, side by side with an old friend who
had first gotten me interested in Drum Corps, some thirty years earlier,
but that's another story.
After we got settled into our seats, a group of policemen mounted on
horses arrived. They paused in front of us for a few minutes while
the horses were fitted with citation cords and readied for the parade.
While they were standing there, the inevitable happened. |
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In the center of the road, a beautiful brown mare lifted her tail and,
5 seconds later, the street had a small mountain of manure.
After the usual clapping and cheering from the "peanut gallery", A
woman in a red rain coat slowly stood up and looked around. She had
a serious look on her face. The rain made her eyes sparkle as she looked
back and forth, stopping on occasion to stare at the pile in
the center of the street.
"Excuse me," she called out to one of the Macy's employees. "Who's going
to clean that up?" There was no response, only the continued commotion
of a parade getting ready to begin. Again the cry, "Excuse me." with
the ensuing lack of response. You could see the wheels turning in
her head. Finally, she climbed down from the bleachers and walked
down front. She headed straight for one of the Macy's parade officials.
"Excuse me. Who's going to clean that up? The kids in the band
might step in it." "We have people who will take care of it." came the
response.
"When?" our lady asked. "Soon" answered the Macy's official, and she
moved off, visibly annoyed. Our ultimate band parent stood there perplexed
for a few minutes. Then it dawned on her, it was the police horse
who made the mess and there were lots of cops around. She began to
move from
one cop to another, tugging at their shirt sleeves. If she had
a purpose in mind, it wasn't clear.
"She's looking for the sergeant, or a high ranking policeman," the woman
next to me said, responding to the curious look on my face. Sure
enough, she found one, a middle aged man with stripes on his sleeve.
She explained to him that their horse had made that mess and since
one of the kids in the band might step in it, it was his responsibility
to get it cleaned up. Upon hearing this, the three
other officers standing with him all decided they had something better
to do, and left abruptly, with silly grins on their faces.
New York City's Finest, having been trained to handle any situation,
promptly pointed across the street to another senior
officer with more stripes. Our band parent, stern in face, charged
off across the street. She stood face to face with the lieutenant
and told him clearly and succinctly exactly what had happened and what
she expected to be done.
The lieutenant inquired why she had chose him to tell. "Because the
sergeant told me to tell you." she replied,
pointing across the street to him. When the sergeant saw her
pointing at him, and the scowled face on the lieutenant, he knew
he'd better go hide fast or end up walking a beat for the next four
months.
Our lieutenant, however, was not to be out manuvered by a sergeant,
after all, he too was a graduate of New York City's Police
Academy. He pointed to a man wearing a Parks Commission uniform
and told her that he had the "proper equipment" to deal with the
problem, and after all wasn't manure more of a parks type problem.
The lieutenant was right. After she explained the problem to the
Parks Commission representative, he looked her straight in the
eye and said he would take care of it immediately. He rushed back to
his truck and, instead of getting out a
shovel, he got in the truck and started the engine. He then proceeded
to drive back and forth over the pile of manure. Our band
parent stood with her mouth open. She was outraged. Grabbing
another Parks Commission officer, she said, "That's not right !"
He looked at what was happening and replied, "You're right." and with
that, he told the driver he had missed, only squashing half
the pile. He then proceeded to personally guide the truck back
and forth until the entire pile was flattened.
Now, about this time the parade began to start. Our parent was confused,
she knew she had to do something. She looked frantically
around, there was no one left. So finally in desperation she put her
arms in the air, palms toward the on coming parade and yelled "Stop
...... stop!". No longer amused with her, New york's finest politely
took her aside. "We can't let the kids step in that" she cried over
and over in a fast, but defeated voice.
Finally the parade came, led by eight motorcycle police. Behind them
the first band. Marching in straight files down the center of
the street. The kids excited and proud, their heads high in the air.
The Drum Major blew his whistle, signaling the drummers for a roll
off, moments later the band played. Surely they'd never see the pile
now. Our Band Parent lowered her head, a defeated woman. She looked
on expecting to see the inevitable happen. But instead, all of
a sudden, with the band playing loudly, out of nowhere, like the lone ranger,
came two custodial workers, pushing garbage cans on wheels. With a quick
swoop of their trusty silver shovels, and a "Hi Ho Tonto, away", the pile
was gone. Suddenly, visions of angels over head could be heard singing
the "Alleluia chorus". Our Ultimate Band parent's eyes lit up. She stood
tall and smiled ear to ear. She looked up at the band and began to clap
and cheer. The crowd in the bleachers caught on to her enthusiasm and began
to stand and clap with her. It was going to be another great Macy's Thanksgiving
Day parade after all, or was it?
Minutes later a group of western riders came down the street. As if
in total disrespect for what had previously happened, one of the
horses, stopped and lifted his tail. Could this be happening? Another
band was fast approaching. Silence fell over the grandstands, as all eyes
turned or our ultimate band parent. Like the first dip in a rollercoaster
ride, our Band Parents' jubilation sank to despair. But, almost as though
some one had planned it, like someone had actually had the foresight to
be prepared, along came two more of our day saving custodial workers. Again
with a simple swish of the shovel, the problem was gone, and like the rollercoaster,
the first dip was over and our Band Parent was headed for jubilation. A
sigh of relief came over the stands and every one settled in to watch a
great parade,.including our favorite band parent. |