So on Sunday, Oach and I were looking for something to do. You know, just to wander around, blow the stink off, and reacquaint ourselves with what sunlight feels like (awful).
To get ideas, I look to the ultimate guide for blatant lies, naked celebrities and all around horribleness, the Webernet.
I originally wrote that to try and coin a fancy internet joke-term, but the more I think about it, the more I really want a giant system of computers and information databases dedicated solely to Steven Weber.
But seriously, who wouldn't?
Back to the narrative. I decided to celebrate Oktoberfest, by going to a supposedly Oktoberfest activity. Evidently, Lexington Ave was closed to traffic from 42nd street to 57th street. One place said there would be vendors, and food, and entertainment and such. I thought it would be like the Steuben Day Parade, which was awesome.
Oach and I approached Lexington and 57th. It seemed ok so far.
particularly the one in green.
It was the usual terrible street vendor garbage booths, with counterfeit lemonade and watered-down scarves and pashmina purses. Pretty much what I expected the outskirts of an urban festival to be like. So what was the problem? THAT WAS THE WHOLE THING. The "Oktoberfest" activity was a 15 block tour of excrement. It turned Lexington into
Canal Street, in a bad way, you know... with fewer shady "massage" parlors.
Disgusted by our waste of time, Oach and I were prepared to call it a day and just go home. We decided not to, however, and I went to go see if the library was open. I didn't have a whole lot of hope because it was Sunday, but whateva, it's better than giving up and getting on the Subway all bummed out and pissed.
And it was the right decision. We headed a few blocks West and almost literally stumbled upon this:
A freakin' parade! Score. It was the 70th annual Pulaski Parade here in NYC. A parade AND and excuse for Polack jokes?? Heaven.
By the by, this parade was named after Kazimierz Pułaski. Read up on him if you don't immediately recognize the name. Also, you sicken me.
So there we were, surrounded by thousands of Polish Americans. Oach and I knew what that meant. We would have to speak very slowly. I kid, I kid... Anyway, we apparently got there too late for the Stanley Kowalski float, and so were left to view the other contributions to society made by Polish people. For example:
- The Submarine Screen Door
- The Solar Powered Flashlight
- The Waterproof Towel
- The Circular Firing Squad
- The Famous WWII Kamikaze pilot, who flew 48 successful missions
- The man who walked across the desert carrying a car door, so if he got hot he could roll down the window.
And so forth.
Of course, being respectful young men, Oach and I observed a moment of silence for those killed when a two-seater plane crashed into a graveyard. Rescue workers retrieved nearly 600 bodies.
And also for the Polish family who froze to death while waiting to see the movie 'Closed for Winter.'
Oh Man, I've got waaaay more, too.
Fine, here are some pictures:
They weren't playing polka. Why was that the first thing you thought of?
This man was my favorite.
Hooray for American patriotism and silly traditional dress in the same photo!
The delegation from the Wellington Medical Group was hammered the entire time (note the coolers).
A highlight of the parade was a ballroom dancing group who erupted into dance in the middle of the parade. It was very impressive, and they were all very good dancers. There was one young man who seemed to be really into it, however. I like to think of him as a miniature Jonathan B. Wright. Observe.
So all in all, it was a fantastically salvaged day. Poles to the rescue, I guess. What a bizarre phrase.
Anyway, the day was capped by a lunch/dinner at The Shake Shack in Madison Square Park. My meal:
It was delicious, but as far as the lines and the prices go, I'll take Voss' any day of the week.
Also - Happy Birthday to my brother Lt. Rev, who occasionally graces this blog with his presence in comment form.
I'm done for now... sleep awaits