Don’t take me to a parade

Yesterday was the Fourth of July and there were parades all over my neighborhood. As a matter of fact, one of these celebrations prevented me from lunching at one of my preferred watering holes.

Boobs on bikes parade, Christchurch, New Zealand. Photo by Gabriel Pollard

On my way to the restaurant I came across two consecutive police blockades and had to cancel my midday gastronomical project; one more reason to add to my long list of grievances against parades.

The above does not sound patriotic but I always thought that patriotic was a loaded word. “My country right or wrong” is not my cup of tea. I prefer by far “if right, to be kept right; and if wrong, to be set right.” Carl Schurz.

I never understood in the first place why anybody would want to be part of a parade. Isn’t it anything but a pathetic attention-seeking plea? Look at me, look at me dammit… Nobody pays attention to me… I am starved for compliments…

One of the few parades that I at least understand is a smart military parade. It could have two purposes; the first one would be to honor and thank the soldiers who fought in forgotten wars. The second would be a big display of military hardware to deter aggression.

My aversion to parades might have its roots in ochlophobia (from the Greek “fear of crowds”).
I relish my independence too much to be sucked in any large group. Crowds are notoriously dimwitted and too easily led. A single speaker can inflame a crowd at will and order it to destruct or kill and without thinking the empty-headed herd would most probably roar its approval; an individual would not be as easily swayed.

Group conformity scares the pants off me because it’s so often a prelude to cruelty towards anyone who doesn’t want to – or can’t – join the Big Parade. Bette Midler

As far as parades are concerned, I could watch Boobs on Bike, or The Black Watch parade. It is at least exotic and entertaining.

Going to a local parade? Don’t count me in. J’ai d’autres chats à fouetter! (I have other cats to whip).

Alain