Fond Thanksgiving Memories
After watching the Macy's Parade with my son, this morning, I was reminded of what happened during the two times I was in the parade.

I performed in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, twice. Both times were with the All-Star Drum & Bugle Corps, which was made up of approximately 500 members of the best of each Junior and Senior Corps from across the nation. In 1992, I played lead soprano bugle and in 1994 I was chosen to be one of the drum majors or conductors. All 500+ members would converge on Bergen County, NJ and spend a week at a National Guard Armory to learn drill and polish the music. We would spend 12 or more hours a day at practice and then party our asses off, sometimes showing up still drunk or high from thenight before. And, let me tell you...you have not experienced the hangover from motherfucking hell until you've had to deal with one while locked inside an Armory that traps, amplifies, and echoes every sound. When you mix in 400+ bugles, a 50-something member drumline, and a shrieking guard composed of mainly twittering fags....trust me, you want to either kill yourself or everyone in the building.

Something strange that I've noticed because of being in this parade twice, is that the weather during the week leading up to Thanksgiving would be unnaturally balmy. We would practice in shorts and t-shirts all week. But, the morning of the parade would always be so fucking cold! The temperature was always in the 30's and the wind would be slicing down the parade route. Of course, the only way to combat this frigid onslaught was to be so drunk that you just didn't care. My Sambuca addiction is rooted firmly in this weather phenomena.

The first year that I performed in the parade, some moron that was driving Kenny G. in a golf cart to whatever gay float he was going to be on, for some reason thought it was a good idea to stop right beside where 500+ drunk, bored, frozen and pissed off corps members were waiting for the word to get in formation to start marching in the parade. Said retarded moron actually stands up and announces in a loud voice, "Look! It is Kenny G.! The most gifted musician and performer in the world!"

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then, (I've always sworn that it started in the drumline, because those drummers are insane) all sorts of garbage began to fly through the air and pelt the Kenny G. golf cart. Many members grabbed their crotches and told Kenny G. to come "blow THIS!" The look on poor Kenny's face was hysterical...it went from fully expectant of hero worship by this large group of "amateur musicians" to complete horror and wanting to cry like a little girl as his tard driver floored the golf cart to get them out of garbage range. I noticed later on the video of the parade that Kenny G. still looked quite shaken during his brief performance.

In 1994, the Corps went into NYC the morning before the parade to appear on the Today Show. Those evil, evil drummers coerced me into drinking Sambuca the night before. In fact, we were still drinking when someone looked out the window and said, "Oh shit! I think the buses are getting ready to leave...uh, are we supposed to be somewhere?"

In order to appear on "Today", you have to be at the NBC studios at the ungodly hour of 4AM. This meant that the buses were loading at 3AM. At that time, we were only starting to have fun. Somehow, I made it onto the bus and with the help of several people, got into my uniform. By the time we arrived at Rockefeller Center, bets were being placed as to whether I would be able to stay on my feet during the show; if I would throw up on Katie Couric or Martha Stewart; at what point I would throw up and/or pass out and if it would be on camera. Somehow, I managed to stay on my feet and not throw up on anyone. I know that my conducting was quite....interesting.

Being young and stupid, I was able to lubricate myself again with 'buca, the next morning. Our performance went off without a hitch. The highlight of the parade was when I heard a disturbance behind us and looked back to see the Barney balloon swooping out of control. The handlers were unable to regain altitude and Barney began diving at the crowds. The NYPD surrounded Barney and began beating the shit out of him....actually stabbing and beating the big, purple fucker. THIS was more than the Corps could handle. NYPD was cheered on with, "Kill that purple motherfucker! Kick that faggoty-ass dinosaur to death! Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Ahh...holidays bring out the best in us all. Happy fucking Holidays!