Mummers strut for the 107th time
PHILADELPHIA - January 1, 2008 The Mummers Parade started several hours late due to showers and
the threat of stiff winds, but by mid-afternoon there were patches
of blue sky and sunshine as brigades cavorted to the delight of
spectators lining the route.
"I like all the camaraderie, everybody's real friendly to
you," said Philly-born and raised Linda Eichmann, 48, standing
alongside City Hall as onlookers blared toy horns as the marchers
neared the end of the route.
"It's the one day of the year our city all gets along," she
said.
Melvin Mays, of West Philadelphia, holding a toy cutlass given
to one of his three young children by a dancing pirate, was
enjoying the relatively mild mid-40 temperatures.
"When I was a kid and would come down, it was brutal cold - but
still the fun was there," Mays said. "We normally watch it on TV,
but when the kids said they wanted to come down, I said we'll come
down this year. It's their first time out."
Passing as he spoke was a group dressed as cows in black and
white and wishing spectators a "Happy Moo Year." Another group
wore pointed witches' hats along with green face paint and long,
crooked noses - and, of course, brandished brooms.
One dancer mocked the saga of an astronaut accused of driving
from Houston to Orlando wearing a diaper to confront a romantic
rival. The purple-wigged dancer cavorted in an orange jumpsuit with
a diaper on the outside, carrying a sign saying "Houston we got a
problem - jealous astronaut."
Even political protests were muted. The Granny Peace Brigade
carried a sign calling for troops to come home, but members wore
brightly colored caps topped with life-sized doves, and one sported
a blue feather boa.
Crowds stood along the route or huddled on the bleachers,
passing each other drinks and soft pretzels, and shouted
encouragement as dancers passed by, throwing confetti and bead
necklaces.
Relaxing behind the grandstand, former Philadelphia resident
Phyllis Rochelle said she had been able to squeeze her 17-year-old
daughter up front in the stands for a better view. Rochelle, 50,
who now lives in Camp Lejeune, N.C., said she had not seen the
parade since she herself was 17.
"The costumes are wonderful, the music - it's exciting," she
said.
Another North Carolina visitor, Dan Rockett, 65, of Raleigh,
said he had been a mummers fan since he saw a band in Charlotte in
1953. He said he was an honorary member of the Durning String Band
and sponsored a November visit by the band to Raleigh, but was
sporting a former band's fancy costume - complete with a huge hat
topped by a flower pot sprouting daisies.
"I'm posing as the Lost Mummer," he said.
The parade stems from a mixture of immigrant traditions, some
dating back of the 1640s, dubbed "mummer" probably from the
German word for "mask." Different neighborhood celebrations began
to coalesce in the late 19th century, and the modern parade began
with city sponsorship in 1901.
The spectacle now includes competition in four divisions:
comics, the satirists; Fancies, with the flashiest outfits; Fancy
Brigades, with choreographed theatrical works; and String Bands,
the dancing musicians, with their traditional theme "Oh! Dem
Golden Slippers."
After the parade, the spectacle moves indoors for two shows in
the Pennsylvania Convention Center - and even then, it's not over.
After the formal program, mummers and their fans traditionally
congregate in South Philadelphia for a celebration that lasts late
in the night, Eichmann said.
"You can see them up close, they bring the crowd in with
them," she said. "They'll make you strut. It's a lot of fun."