March 18, 2006


"More Candy Less War" is a sentiment we can all get behind. These kids were about seven or eight, and they were fixed to their grandparents with a rope.

The polices were positioned every eight feet for the length of the route, and there were riot cops in thier positions with baton and shin-guards, Cook County Sherrifs, ones that looked like park rangers. All the side streets were lined with command station busses and cruisers bumper to bumper.

I went by myself. The batteries in my camera died after five pictures, but they would have all looked like this, though I regret not getting a picture of when we turned on to Michigan Ave, and people were watching from the hotels and the fancy stores; the young shoppers pressed against the glass of J.Crew watching the parade next to the mannequins looked trapped. I walked next to all kinds of people, but naturally, my favorites were some teenage girls that hopped into the march after their stop at Wet Seal. They were drinking Starbucks and talking on their cell phones and naturally, they were incredible. "If I was George Bush, I would totally be crying right now. If I was president, I could not deal with all these people hating me, I'd be freaking," said one. I wish our president was a 17 year old girl. America would be soooo amazing. I sped up and clapped my mittens to get warm, and fortunately, I ran into Al and Nora, who were kicking their "Snowsuits for Peace" look they said. I suddenly appeared next to them when the group they were in began chanting "THIS IS WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE!"--they thought that was real funny. Nora had her one pocket filled with rolling cigarette tobacco and the other pocket filled with lemonhead candy, like Antione from 400 Blows in grown up girl form. During the parade stopping for a traffic as we turned onto Wacker, we go to stand for maybe five minutes right there on the bridge above the river and see downtown, leisurely and quiet. Quiet despite the yelling. Traffic was redirected all-elsewhere and it was special, we had downtown to ourselves. It was like being on a date with a few thousand people. Going up Wacker, the chants had died off a bit, it was silent except for whistles and drum in the distance and then someone yelled "Who let the dogs out?!" real loud and serious and everyone cracked up. When we got to 'the end' Daley Plaza, the rear was headed up, and all the music and fun was on the tail end. The punk flag corps (why did I ignore that email?! Criminy!) was running sloppy drills and twirling in red white and blue outfits, followed by an ad hoc marching band and drum corps that included a guy with a silvertone guitar being run through a hockey-helmet mounted bullhorn. Behind them was the all reggae soundsystem mounted on a bike-cart, followed by the Ethical Humanist Society. "They're Kantians!" said Nora, excited. Nora is getting her PHD in philosophy, those are her people. We pledged to each other to join them, their banner was very nice looking. "For next time."

Posted by Jessica at March 18, 2006 11:58 PM | TrackBack