Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade

This is just a little one. I think its suppose to be a clown matryoshka.

My brother came up to visit for Thanksgiving. I asked him if there was anything special he wanted to do.
"See the parade." He said.
"Hmmm. Good idea." I said.
"When do we have to go?" He asked me. He remembered that as children we left with my grandfather from the Bronx at about 6am in order to get a spot. We had chicken liver, onion and mayo sandwiches in a baguette. My grandfather also brought along a thermos of hot, sweet, milky espresso. Even though we were kids we were allowed to drink it. It was my first exposure to European culture.
"Around 9." I said.
"9?"
"Don't worry." I said. "I know how to do it."

The next morning we pumped up the junkers I keep under my stoop and biked down to Central Park. It was blocked off and there was no traffic. At about 75th street we got off and locked up the bikes. We wandered over to the 10 foot high stone wall that separated us from CPW and the parade. We could hear the bands and the cheering and the announcer shouting.
"Louisville East. Enter the parade!"

I stood under a low hanging branch nearby.
"We have to do this quick." I jumped up and grabbed the branch. Then I walked up the stone wall until my feet were over the edge. I shimmied forward until the greater part of my butt was over then I was able to turn over and stand on top of the wall. I reached down and grabbed my brothers arm and pulled him up and over with me. A crowd of people came running over trying to repeat our stunt. The cops were right behind them. They chased them all away.
"You have to come down from there." The fat little policeman shrieked at us.
"Ok." I said and we jumped down onto the parade side.

Now we were behind the bleachers on CPW. Nobody from New York City ever gets a seat at these bleachers. I have never met anybody who has sat there. They are all filled with rich people from the suburbs or the exurbs or North Dakota who know somebody who knows somebody. Fortunately being rich many of them are shocked to find out that the parade is outside and that outside is cold. They don't last very long and there are always some empty seats around. So we crawled along under one of the bleachers until we came to an empty spot. I have learned that as long as I ask one invited person on the bleachers if it is alright for us to sit in the empty spot and as long as that invited person says yes that it is then socially acceptable for us to occupy those empty seats.

That's what we did. Without getting up early. Without know anybody who knows someone who knows somebody we had front row seats to the greatest parade on earth. Oh yes. If you have never been there then you do not know. It's not just the bands of 76 trombones playing and marching exactly in time. Its not just the old TV or movie stars that you thought for sure were dead and have been summoned back for one last public appearance. For me it is the spectacle of those giant balloons moving down CPW. That cannot be captured on TV or even in the movies. They used to be even bigger but then a couple of years ago they lost control of one of those monsters and it killed somebody. Well, it knocked over a lamppost and the lamppost killed somebody when it dropped down on them. Or I think maybe they were just brain dead. Still. I like the idea of them being dangerous.