HOW I SPENT MY MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND

I used to look forward to those annual little essays you did in grade school on the first day back from summer vacation.  I could recycle the one from the previous year, since we did the same thing every summer:  spend two weeks at the Jersey shore with our relatives on my Dad’s side.  Our holidays’ weekends these days have a similar familiarity to them.  So, this post can serve as a template for a lot of Memorial Days past.

Sad sign of the times.  On the two-block stretch where we live, only we and the neighbors across the street are flying a flag.  Curious.  We also happen to be the only two that do our own yardwork.  What’s up with that?

This is not a weekend to drive anywhere, especially with gas prices still topping $4/gal.  Even tho that’s not a factor with the scoot, it’s still a hassle to deal with the traffic on PCH and elsewhere around LA with seemingly everyone trying to get out in the SoCal sun.  So, vegetate, right?  Fortunately for the hermit set, this is the ideal weekend to flop on the couch and watch sports.  And so I did.

I started (bottom center) with the weekly Australian Rules Football broadcast, which shows up here live at 2:00 a.m. Saturday morning, this one featuring the Gold Coast Suns vs. the Geelong Cats.  I’ve been a fan of ARF since the early 90’s, when Fox Sports first started weekly game-of-the-week shows.  They stopped doing that for about ten years, and just this year picked it up again.  Thank you, Fox (this shoutout limited to the sports division!).  Geelong was my favorite team, but only because of the prison uniforms (with matching socks).  This was the inaugural game for the Suns’ brand-new stadium.  It was a close match for the first half, but then the Cats destroyed them.  Next up on Saturday was the UEFA Cup Champions final from Wembley Stadium in London.  This, for most fans, is the pinnacle of football/soccer, the championship of all the club teams of Europe.  Like the ARF game, however, a closely played first half (1-1) ended up in a rout by Barcelona, 3-1.  ManU’s stats (attempts, corners, etc.) were pitiful by comparison.  Barcelona clearly was the superior team and just dominated.  Friends of ours, Larry and Rene, just happened to be in Barcelona the night of the victory, and emailed us that the place was an all-night party.  Nice timing on their part.

Sunday morning we beetled off to the farmers’ market, then the Victor Benes bakery at Gelson’s for a proper breakfast to plop in front of the t.v. 

Yes, I ate them both.  Shameless, I know, but mmmmmmm.  With that, Sunday was all racing, starting with a surprisingly good Monaco Grand Prix, whose 5 a.m. start I recorded.  Surprising in that there actually were a number of passes and lead changes instead of the usual 2 hour parade that seems to be the norm now in tech-obsessed Formula 1.  I loved the shots of all the mega-yachts moored in the harbor.  How discouraging it must be to have your 300-foot behemoth outdone by a neighboring superlative.  Next up was the 100th anniversary edition (by calendar, not # of races) of the Indy 500, which had a terrific finish with the race-leading rookie crashing in the final turn and finishing second after muscling his twisted heap over the line.  Since this was the 100th, they had a lot of stories about the first, back in 1911, won by Ray Harroun in the Marmon Wasp (so named for its black-and-yellow paint scheme).  That brought back some memories of my own, as my former secretary back in the 80’s, Candace, was Harroun’s granddaughter or grandniece.  I forget which, but it was neat to have a living link to that history. 

Last up was the Coca-Cola 600 Nascar race, ridiculously lengthened to that distance for nothing other than one-upmanship.  I confess.  I used to be an avid Nascar fan, but I only watch a couple of the “major” races anymore, and even then, like this one, by taping and playing back at fast-forward until something (read, wreck) happens.  I only watch the opening laps and the last 20 or so in “real” time.  This one had its share of excitement, but ultimately ended in a restarted, two-lap runaway.  Zzzzz.

Now, lest you think I’ve sunk to the lowest common entertainment denominator, we did engage in a bit of kulcha on Saturday night.  Fortunately for us, our friends Chuck and Alice (see “Adventures in Paradise”) have a more highbrow bent, and are kind enough to drag invite us to more refined amusements.  Unlike a previous atonal music disaster that shall be mentioned no more, this turned out to be a genuine treat.

 

This play was written ca 1603/4, and scholars have debated whether it was influenced by Shakespear’s Hamlet or whether itself it provided inspiration for the Bard’s tale.  Frankly, this is a rather bawdy comedy, with lots of digs at the sycophants at the royal court, not exactly the tragic stuff of the melancholy Dane.  But, what do I know?  I wasn’t no stinking English major.  I was afraid I’d be lost in a torrent of Olde English, but not so.  True, many words were unfamiliar, but watching them being acted while said brings a lot of clarity to the proceeding.  Bottom line, this was an excellent production by a very talented cast, Actor’s Equity all, and we thoroughly enjoyed it.  It was put on at the Deaf West Theater in the NoHo arts district by the Antaeus classical theater ensemble, which is dedicated to preserving and performing classic plays.  Every role is double cast (see the lists of “Wittols” and “Cuckolds” in the playbill above) so that these working actors, who do this for a pittance, can have the scheduling flexibility to pursue other more gainful employment at the same time.  The theater was very intimate, and some of the audience in sidestage seats were made part of the action.  I was happy to be in the third row and only spectating.

I was reminded of how much entertainment diversity L.A. offers, and, sadly, how little we take advantage of it.  Ah, well, where’s that t.v. listing?

 

ZIPPIDY DOO DAH

Loosely organized insanity.  That was the 34th Occasional Pasadena Doo Dah Parade. 

Credit to “Nightranger”

Shamelessly plagiarizing from Wikipedia:

Conceived in 1978 by several friends, sitting in a bar called "Chromo's" (which no longer exists) in Pasadena, as an irreverent alternative to the traditional formality of the Rose Parade, which is also held in Pasadena. In 1978, January 1 fell on a Sunday, and the Rose Parade, which typically takes place on January 1, will not march on a Sunday. So they decided it would be fun to have an alternate parade that year. Some of the early participants were Snotty Scotty and the Hankies, The Lawn Mower Drill Team, The Briefcase Drill Team and General Hershey Bar, among many others.

The Pasadena Doo Dah Parade today features absurd and unique participants such as the BBQ & Hibachi Marching Grill Team, The Shopping Cart Drill Team, The Bastard Sons of Lee Marvin, The Men of Leisure Synchronized Nap Team, The Marching Lumberjacks, Dr. Steel's Army of Toy Soldiers, Claude Rains & the 20-Man Memorial Invisible Man Marching Drill Team, Count Smokula, and the Committee for the Right to Bear Arms, a group that marches in precise formations while carrying mannequin arms. The band "Snotty Scotty and the Hankies" is still the Official band.

And, Snotty Scotty still sucks, having lost whatever voice he had three decades ago.  For reasons still unfathomable, our LA Scooter Group decided to ride in the parade, which we’ve never seen before.  The idea was to decorate the scoots and to promote their “green” character as gas savers.  Oh kayyy.  Why not. 

Well, I’ll tell you.  Because this is a parade for lunatics, not ecologists.  The parade this year was on May 1, and we were still in Vegas on April 30, so we stopped at a party supply store on the way out of town and stocked up on balloons, crepe paper, and other stuff.  As it turned out, few others did much theming to their scoots.  I think we overdressed.

I guess we achieved the green theme, but we definitely were way out of place in this parade.  I mean, it had

and (note the flying conductor suspended from the crane)

Clearly the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s are alive and well in Pasadena.  Yes, the unmistakable fragrance of the “funny weed” wafted all over.  We breathed deep.  One of my favorite groups was

Not to offend anyone, but that’s A “Cheesus Christ Pizza Company” sign on the left, and a giant pizza being wheeled in the rear.  Go, godless liberals!

One of the Doo Dah traditions is the spectators throwing food items at the marchers.  In the past, it was marshmallows, but they were banned as an awful mess to clean up.  Recently, they switched (mostly) to flying tortillas. 

As you can see, the marshmallow ban was not entirely effective.  It quickly became high sport to try to hit the moving scooter targets, especially us.  Our balloons made us look like a carnival game, so they were flinging those corn discs as hard as they could to try to break our bubbles.  We only lost one, but had to keep our visors down as we were getting smacked in the face pretty good.

We saw this one before they had put on the sign.  The baby gets hauled up those center ropes by a pully, poises at the top, and then flips over and falls.  We thought it was a guillotine. 

Not everything was creepy.  I guess. 

We were glad when it ended.  It was getting hot in those helmets, and the tires were getting coated in marshmallow slime, making for interesting handling. 

All in all, it was fun, but I don’t see making this an annual event for us.  Unless we can dress like zombies?

NOT!