Sunday, April 21, 2019
After church this morning, I stood outside listening to the peeling church bells while watching the congregation pour down the steps into the ongoing Easter Parade on Fifth Avenue.
I felt like introductions were in order: “Sacred, meet Profane; Profane, meet Sacred,” as the parade no longer has much connection to the real meaning of Easter. I began wondering if the parade will someday incorporate floats and drunken revelry, like a Mardi Gras coda to the Easter season. I hope not.
After the bells stopped peeling, I waded through the crowd on my way to Trump Tower to buy another MAGA hat. The Tower was bustling with sightseers, more than I’ve ever seen, as I escalated down to one of the gift shops on the lower level. I opted for a red MAGA visor this time, perfect for warm weather.
As I glided back up to the main level, I saw a woman wearing an Easter hat made of red, white, and blue flowers. She beamed when I told her it was the best that I had seen all day.
While walking back down Fifth Avenue to hear an organ recital—wearing my new hat, of course—I ran into a friend of mine who was bedecked in a large Trump shawl and wearing a red MAGA hat. She told me that she had been walking in the parade for hours and was amazed to have received only compliments. Indeed, while the two of us were chatting, numerous people stopped to convey their appreciation and gratitude.
There are more sane people in this city than people realize.
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