Relay: I Love A Parade

When I read this winter that a town UpIsland had voted to prohibit solicitors from going door to door, I thought, send them out here. I’d have invited them in, served them coffee, asked about the family, and sent them home with a bundt cake. Of course, I would later cancel the very big order I placed, because, really, how many vacuums or cleaning fluids does a woman need? 

Yes, it was that dull out here this winter. More businesses were closed, and it seemed that fewer people were out and about over all. But this weekend brings out the green in all of us, and I’ll soon be eating my words.

I’m always a bit baffled when locals tell me they stay home instead of going to the Montauk Friends of Erin parade. When I spoke last week to Capt. Paul Forsberg, who is this year’s grand marshal, he told me he thought it was amazing that this little hamlet without one traffic light could hold such an elaborate parade, and I agreed with him. The parade attracts thousands of people, most of whom wear silly hats, makeup, or other green bits of clothing, all great for people-watching.

And, of course, there are always salespeople out and about, whether they be Girl Scouts selling cookies or others promoting store sales. I think I empathize with salespeople because my father was one. I’m sure it wasn’t his life plan to be a salesperson, but he didn’t have much choice after the incident with the police department.

After he left the Army, he became a mounted police officer in New York City, meaning he rode a horse rather than sit in a squad car. One night while on duty he tied his horse to a post and went into a shop for a doughnut and coffee. The horse got loose and somehow managed to get into a movie theater, where he scared the poor moviegoers to death. My father was fired and became a salesperson.

He sold Wyler drink products, which were similar to Kool-Aid, to supermarkets and smaller grocery stores. But Kool-Aid had already drenched the markets and had the bigger name, so when my father came home with his drunk face on, we knew sales weren’t too good. There was never a shortage of lemonade or cherry juice in our house.

There were times when I was a little girl when he took me to work with him, probably when I was faking illness to stay home from school. My mother always worked and someone had to watch me, so they piled blankets, pillows, and coloring books in the car for our ride up to Westchester County, which was his territory. 

I used to feel so sorry for him when I saw the managers shake their heads, no, no Wyler here. But then my father got smart and realized when I was with him the store managers were much friendlier and even placed bigger orders than usual. I must have had bedhead and been dressed in rags for them to have that type of reaction. My bedhead is pretty scary, so maybe they just wanted to get rid of us.

Anyway, we’ll all be drinking the Kool-Aid this weekend, no matter what shape or color it comes in. Green beer will be flowing, the bands will be drumming, silly floats will draw a laugh, and Montauk will wake up for the season. I, for one, can’t wait!

Janis Hewitt is a senior writer for The East Hampton Star.