Integration

I spent only about an hour at the Ukrop’s / Retail Merchant’s Association of Greater Richmond Christmas Parade this morning. I stood on Broad Street at about Foushee, facing that Capital City landmark, Harvey’s Progressive Barber Shop. The man next to me on the left looked to be a late-in-life dad, or a not-so-old grandpa, a white man in a tweedy coat and felt hat with three kids. The black woman on my right had a son and a daughter, to whom she had each given a few dollars to spend as they wished on hot chocolate or popcorn or street vendor toys. The street vendors had plastic horns and noise makers and inflatable toys for sale. The latter included Batman, Spiderman, the Hulk, a snowman, and Santas (with white or brown faces). The boy bought a Spiderman; the girl paced her spending, getting only a hot chocolate while I was there.

The parade began a bit tattily: two teenaged girls in flair bottomed jeans, hems torn, and sneakers carried the banner. But all the kids had their eye on the Bob the Builder balloon, not far behind -- so to most, it was a great start.

The first band, decked in green and yellow, represented Henrico High School (nearly all African-American). After their banner came the pep squad or dance squad or whatever they are called these days. Here’s where I might have said, You know, girls in tiny costumes grinning lipstick smiles, prancing and kicking – but this squad included two boys. Go figure. The Richmond City Schools all-school band also had boy . . . majorette? (Is that any more patronizing than “lady doctor”?) From the curb, I’d describe the boys' outfits as wind suits and black sneakers. The most graceful, smilingest guy had a black knit cap and black gloves.

He was much happier than the overly-made up (mostly white, all female) tiny little girls in the baton twirling clubs. The teenagers do execute impressive toss-with-cartwheel moves, but every single child is tarted up. In one club, they all had their hair shellacked back into buns, tied with tinsel (“no short hair allowed in our club”?)The way a chaperone yanked a tearful tot (cold? Tired from having walked about 2 miles and with another ½ mile to go? Had to pee?) by the upper arm and growled “where’s the mini van?” made me sad.

Virginia Military Institute’s band included maybe three young women.

Mayor McCullom, in tie and overcoat, looked better than parka-wearing U.S. Congressman Scott. I think each man rode in a convertible, that traditional way of getting the local car dealers in on the fun. A Cadillac dealer, oddly, just sent a car carrier truck-full. If there were car dealers in the East End, I’d say a delivery got swept into the parade. Nah, there was clearly one of each model; oh, and poinsettias.

I stayed for only one round of Shriners: tiny cars and the Far East band! Wheee! Those cars are so darn cool. Our local Shrine usually contributes clown, motorcycle, and horse units, and a country and western band, so I am sure there was much more fun, but my toes were cold and my paper called.

(Oh, on the way home, I stopped in the new Grace & Harrison Ukrop’s, and bumped into that blue-eyed elf, Mr. Bobby Ukrop himself.)

Capital City weather: cold, partly sunny, damp but no snow. Did it snow where you are?