There’s nothing more amazing than walking to your own theme music. As a nearby high school marching band lifts flutes, trumpets, and saxophones to their mouths, and the drummers behind them start to tap out a more insistent beat, I can’t help lifting my feet in unison. This, I think, is going to be awesome.
Another local photog once told me, “The great thing about parades, Micky, is that they come to you.” I suppose that’s fair. But I’ve never been able to resist the energy; whether it’s the expectant hum of the crowd pre-march or the roar of happy cheers, clapping, and laughter of a parade in full swing, I can’t help it — I want to be a part of it.
The streets lining Brattleboro’s Strolling of the Heifers are packed to capacity. You can hardly tell where one person stops and another begins as people press up against each other, craning their necks and stretching onto their tiptoes to get the best view. There are barely any openings in this crowd to wiggle through. The sun is shining off a sea of happy faces and the music is just about to begin.
My perfect walking conditions.
Call me crazy, but I love sneaking my way through the crowds alongside a favorite float or band. It makes me feel like I’m really part of the event — a scurrying spectacle of camera equipment and big smiles. It also reminds me, in a small way, of busy sidewalks in Boston, and the years I spent maneuvering around dawdling groups of tourists and overworked students.
As I start to follow the band I walk directly into a woman who has stepped backwards from the crowd. We laugh and smile at each other. “Sorry, sorry!” In mere seconds I’m on my way, my senses a bit more attuned to the motions of people. I’m surrounded by Vermonters, young and old, as well as some four-legged friends you don’t normally run into on the streets of Brattleboro. Every now and then I stop and take a picture.
Walking down a packed sidewalk is a wonderful game of apologies and quick thinking. You have to predict the endless ebb and flow of people around an infinitely distracting event. And then there are those other souls, often haplessly, also trying to make their way to some mysterious “better” location.
At Strolling of the Heifers, my parade partners include cows, clowns and even Bernie Sanders. In the end, though — with no offense to Bernie — my favorite parade pals will always be the marching bands. You really can’t beat walking to your own theme music.•
