David Dunlap provides the details (to perhaps even an unnecesary degree: thermoplastic grout? Yeah, I was wondering about that) of the completion of a project I have been following, quite literally, the progress of over the summer. Jogging up lower Broadway is part of one of my regular routes, and I noticed one evening the presence of slices of what looked to be brass (turns out to be granite with inset stainless — affixed by the aforementioned thermoplastic grout) stripes that cross the sidewalk as you move north from Bowling Green. They each had a terse description of an event that, after passing a handful, I presumed to be the occassions for ticker tape parades. I was planning to mention this earlier, but progress seemed to be stalled around 1950. What struck me was the frequency in the early part of the century, and a focus that seemed to be disporportionately political figures (which struck me as odd, given how anonymously a world leader can be in the city now) and war-hero related (which was entirely understandable). Given my lived experience of them as a series of drunk New Jersey-ites feting the Yankees (can you tell I’m a lifelong Red Sox fan? Though given what I saw of Yankee fans, I would be even less inclined to attend a Bosox parade, hexed impossibility notwithstanding), I was looking forward to the sixities and beyond, where I could trace the general degredation of civic celebration from the standard of those who saved countries and ruled them to pajama-clad pretty boys and louts who hit a fast moving ball with a stick. But I’ve passed on that route lately, and thus missed out on the progress. Dunlap doesn’t provide enough specifics to bear me out, and the evenings are now dark early enough to prevent a review. I doubt I will be disappointed when I give it a shot some weekend. But the city is betting big on Yankee domination for decades to come: some 33 spots are held empty for expansion. The way the Bombers are pitching these days, they should last well into the next century.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Both comments and trackbacks are currently closed.
The devolution of the hero.
David Dunlap provides the details (to perhaps even an unnecesary degree: thermoplastic grout? Yeah, I was wondering about that) of the completion of a project I have been following, quite literally, the progress of over the summer. Jogging up lower Broadway is part of one of my regular routes, and I noticed one evening the presence of slices of what looked to be brass (turns out to be granite with inset stainless — affixed by the aforementioned thermoplastic grout) stripes that cross the sidewalk as you move north from Bowling Green. They each had a terse description of an event that, after passing a handful, I presumed to be the occassions for ticker tape parades. I was planning to mention this earlier, but progress seemed to be stalled around 1950. What struck me was the frequency in the early part of the century, and a focus that seemed to be disporportionately political figures (which struck me as odd, given how anonymously a world leader can be in the city now) and war-hero related (which was entirely understandable). Given my lived experience of them as a series of drunk New Jersey-ites feting the Yankees (can you tell I’m a lifelong Red Sox fan? Though given what I saw of Yankee fans, I would be even less inclined to attend a Bosox parade, hexed impossibility notwithstanding), I was looking forward to the sixities and beyond, where I could trace the general degredation of civic celebration from the standard of those who saved countries and ruled them to pajama-clad pretty boys and louts who hit a fast moving ball with a stick. But I’ve passed on that route lately, and thus missed out on the progress. Dunlap doesn’t provide enough specifics to bear me out, and the evenings are now dark early enough to prevent a review. I doubt I will be disappointed when I give it a shot some weekend. But the city is betting big on Yankee domination for decades to come: some 33 spots are held empty for expansion. The way the Bombers are pitching these days, they should last well into the next century.