Suburban white folks change the dynamic.
Meaning that I would be fiercely jostled by people eating sticky-sweet beef jerky and complaining about the smell of my tobacco. And that a nice strong cup of Hong Kong style milk-tea might be hard to find.
Baked charsiu buns will be sold in enormous quantities, as well as egg rolls and sweet and sour pork.
Everyone will have a truly stupendous time.
And be culturally enriched.
Which I do not begrudge them at all. It is a wonderful spectacle, and it lets the neighborhood put on the dog like nothing else. The lions and dragons will have been brought out of storage and properly fed, the Saint Mary's Drum and Bell Corps have practiced months for this day, fireworks will be set off in enormous quantity, and the spectators shall have experienced something you don't see every day in Fremont, Turlock, or Modesto.
High school bands from as far away as Oregon get a chance to show off, have chop suey, and take selfies!
ON THE OTHER HAND ...
For locals who live east of Van Ness Avenue, it will be a logistical mystery getting to the cigar club to enjoy a quiet Scotch with pipe and fine flaky tobacco after the Marin bus drops them off near Sacramento. Even if smoking pipes and sipping refined peatmoss distilate are not part of their plan, it will be a logistical mystery.
Broadway might be passable, as the parade ends on Pacific. The Union Street buses could be running, but they will need to detour severely. The Number One California, if operational at all, will necessarily be going some other route. The California Cablecar line won't be taking passengers in any case, and likely not the Powell line either.
I expect that there will be far fewer Chinese in Chinatown than normal, and statistically, that is a dead certainty.
Having lived very near to where the parade takes place for many years, I do not need any further cultural enrichment; I has done already been culturally enriched. And a glass of Scotch with a pipeful of Dunhill's Ready Rubbed is about all the excitement I can handle after a day in Marin. Which is also culturally enriching, but the wrong way.
Strong milk tea at home, get on the computer briefly, cruise the news and write something fluffy for this blog, then trek across the hill.
I shall be a badger wandering in the dark, a grumpy mustelid in the underbrush, a furry beast in the corner of the eye.
Next week the alleyways, bakeries, and noodle shops will be mine again.
There is nothing quite so invisible as a middle-aged man.
With a hot cup of milk tea and a flaky pastry.
I am part of the furniture.
My apartment mate, who used to be my girlfriend, will think me insane for venturing out at all. She's Cantonese American but never bothered watching the parade. No, that's not why we are no longer a couple, instead it rather indicates that despite our differences we have enough in common to remain good friends.
We've known each other a long time.
She fervently dislikes tobacco.
And never touches whisky.
That isn't it either.
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