May 13, 2007
Art Carfunkel
Posted by pete at May 13, 2007 10:17 PMHeaded downtown with Sir Not Appearing In This Blog and our respective daughters yesterday for the Art Car Parade. I know there's been talk of corporate sponsorship ruining the spirit of the parade (which is funny coming from the newspaper of the city with the original Starbucks across from a Starbucks), but we still had a groovy time.
That said, it does seem like we get more and more cars each year. There were over 300 this time around, and some were rather half-assed. The good ones, however, were pretty damn good.
But first, I'm getting one of these:
That's a Cruzin Cooler: 500 watts, 13 MPH, and 24 12-oz cans of pure awesomeness.
Speaking of pure awesomeness, George Clinton was the Grand Marshal:
And then the parade really began. There were all manner of great cars - both classic Art Car standards and new entries - but there were a few I wanted to point out, including the Dancing Queen, the converted school bus that I feel certain would've been The Thing That Walks Like A Man's favorite entry:
Next up, one of my personal favorites. And all due respect to the Vroom Vroom Room (and the one picture I got of them was hopelessly blurry), but I really enjoyed the car made of Billy Bass and Rocky Lobsters synched up to sing opera:
I guess I'm just a hoosier at heart.
Finally, I had to point out what I thought was either a gross oversight or a joke in somewhat poor taste on the part of the organizers. To wit: the placement of the Jewish car behind the car for the Klein (Katy? Kincaid?) German Club van:
Okay, maybe I was the only one who noticed.
A fine time was had by all, and while there are - admittedly - a number of commercially sponsored entries (Starbucks, McDonald's, the Houston Chronicle), the Art Car Parade remains one of the few events in Houston that is free to attend and that allows people to bring a whatever food they like, lawn chairs and blankets, and a cooler of tall boys (*cough*). Try to do the same at any of the city's other festivals. Or an Astros or Texans game.
I’m already working on plans for building one of our sofas around the Cruzin Cooler to ride along side the Vroom Vroom Room for next year’s parade.
I am just glad to see that the Star-o-David-mobile from College Station made it down to the parade.
Ha! Now I must tell you about the Dancing Queen.
This was the first Art Car Parade I missed in years. My son had a robotics competition that morning that lasted well into the afternoon, and I stayed with him to cheer him on. The Bonster, however, was free in the morning, so she took my daughter K to the parade.
The American General office complex continues to be the most convenient parking location for parade attendance, but their draconian security policies drove the Bonster to park across Dallas. She and K hoofed it all the way to the place where the cars were lining up, and by the time they got there they were already getting worn out.
As they started walking up the road towards the front, a bus pulled up behind them. “Want a ride?” somebody asked. So, Bonster and K got on.
This was the Dancing Queen. It was manned by two extremely flamboyant persons in 1979-vintage disco garb. These fellows were extraordinarily friendly and welcoming. They showed K the disco balls and their awesome light display. Then they started playing music.
My daughter loves to dance. When we go to Joe’s Crab Shack and they play “Car Wash”, she gets up and shakes her thing. She’s almost 6. And so, when KC and the Sunshine Band came on and exhorted her to shake shake shake, shake shake shake her booty, she did. As the Dancing Queen pulled up to its designated spot in the parade lineup, K and the Bonster shook their groove thangs to a righteous dance track that rocked the entire parade route.
The fine fellows of the Dancing Queen exhorted Bonster and her youthful ward to join them for the rest of the parade, an offer that was politely declined. Disco is a delicacy not unlike caviar — its charms stem, more than anything, from its rarity, and its small portion size. And so my girls disembarked amid many pleasantries and hugs — Bonster’s bosoms are appreciated by persons of all genders and sexual orientations — and promises to enjoy the rest of the day. Which they did.
Herendeth the tale.