The other night, my wife and I were cleaning up the debris left over from tearing down the plaster ceiling in our living room. We had already spent quite a bit of time in the car, searching out Philly's city dumps, to get rid of what must have been close to a ton of debris, and a lot of that time was spent trying to circumnavigate the Mummers parade. Normally held on New Year's day, it had been rained out and pushed to the following weekend. We drove down to Oregon Ave and tried to cross Broad St, but ran into a police barricade. There were string bands tuning up and pushing their set pieces around. Oh man, I thought, we are at cheez ground zero. Deep in South Philly, surrounded by macho men wearing feathered costumes, pumping mini-parasols in the air to banjo-N-sax big band riffs. I was a little bummed that we were in the car on what must be one of the very very very few 70 degree January days in Philly history, instead of riding our bikes through Mummerland, but we had work to do. So, after two dump runs with our bags of ancient, horrible drywall and plaster, we decided to stroll the three blocks up to Broad to see why there was still a ruckus at 6pm.
And what timing. We caught one string band just as they were beginning a performance, and they were pretty great. The costumes, the zany set pieces, very French powdered whigs meets Corpse Bride...hard to describe but easy to appreciate. A little piece of Burning Man, but so far to the opposite of the spectrum that you almost reach the other pole. The Mummers need to discover Black Rock, but that's unlikely. Anyway, I realized immediately what the Mummers are all about...I guess it was seeing a really good band right off the bat...the last time I went to the parade was probably in the early 80's.
Next up was the Fralinger string band, and I didn't need anyone to tell me that they've won the past 4 consecutive years. Their 'Native American' theme was over the top but not offensive, and was just a theatrical wonder in the middle of an intersection. The costumes were nuts, the choreography right on, and the set pieces inventive and well-executed. They did go on to claim their 5th title, and deservedly so. Just in case we were going to go home thinking that the Mummers are above tackiness (under those feathers), the next band pulled out some forehead-slapping Mexican stereotypes (drunken, gap-toothed, cactus costumes???) and cliche musical numbers. Oh well, my faith in the mummers is 66.6% restored.