But, because the socials flatten experiences into seconds-long bursts of mild interest bound within tiny rectangles that are instantly replaced by other seconds-long bursts of mild interest bound within tiny rectangles, I’m going to assume nobody’s spend the time and effort to tell you about it.
So lemme do that now.
First, you should know, that it’s a blast. I mean, a Halloween parade in Witch City at the beginning of October? Just those words should instantly conjure a series of autumnal sensory impressions: the scent of pumpkin spice candles, the feel of spine-tingling breezes, the taste of caramel apples, the sound of Tim Curry singing, “How do you do, I”. I love the timing of this parade. The ritual excitedly welcomes the season, instead of sadly ending it like most. In other words, there’s no Santa Claus at batting cleanup in this John Wayne Macy’s parade (although, strangely and hilariously, there was one in the middle of the Grand Parade last night).
You should also know that it’s primarily a townie parade. Which might be surprising to you. It’s not the over-the-top grand guignol of an event that you’d think would come from the most Halloween place on the planet. It’s mostly locals walking in groups, sometimes in costume, sometimes with matching T-shirts, sometimes in just a hoodie and jeans looking at their phones as they stroll, throwing out candy to kids on the sidelines in a reverse form of trick-or-treat. Here and there, small float floats by, built by local schools and organizations and shops.
That said, it does have plenty of moments of supreme Halloween…because so many of those shops and organizations are inherently spooky. Hell, even the schools are. The mascot of the high school is a Wicked Witch of the West-type witch. And one of the elementary schools is called Witchcraft Heights. And, by the way, bravo to those two school band tuba players who decorated their brass funnels like monster venus flytraps.
The vantage points for the parade are varied. The waterfront, Derby Street, the Pedestrian Mall, the Common. We set up on Front Street so that the Old Town Hall would be directly across from us (and if I needed, I could sneak into the Lobster Shanty behind me for a hot n’ dirty pickle martini). The weather was perfect sweater weather—or costume weather, I should say—the crowds thick enough to be fun but not so thick as to be annoying. It took us less than half an hour to get a table for dinner directly after.
The parade is always themed, although not always themed well. Past years have included, “Who’s Your Hero” and “The Future is Ours” and “World Peace.” They don’t always lean into the Halloween like they should (although the theme for 2017 was appropriately, “Movie Monsters”). This year it was the environmental message of “Our Time on Earth.” As a result, there were bees and globes all over the parade that garnered polite attention while we all waited patiently for hearses full of skeletons and 80s slasher villains dancing to Thriller.
But you know who I did love seeing in the parade? Lots of witches. Jack Skellington and his friends. So many Beetlejuices. Almost as many Michael Myers. The Addams Family. The Scooby gang. Freddy. Jason. Skeletons. Demons. Pirates. The Ghostbusters. Entire walks of zombies. And somehow, somehow, somehow, not a single Sanderson Sister in sight. Although at one point I thought I saw Winnifred, but it turned out to be the Queen of Hearts on an Alice in Wonderland float. Same wig, I guess.
Turns out, I’m way ok with spooky IP in a parade. Plenty of room there to mash all the monsters.
The whole thing ends on the Common with a feeling, I assume, like the opening scene of The Nightmare Before Christmas: “It’s over!” and “We did it!” And lots of congratulating over wounds oozing and witches’ fondest dreams.
Even the bees.
