A "mummer" is a person who wears a mask or fantastic costume while merrymaking, says the dictionary.
The dictionary says nothing about being South Philly Italian, or marching with a brew in your hand, but these also seem to be requirements.
And the merrymaking is a New Year's Day parade up Broad Street in Philadelphia. Here's the view:
And in some cases, even the requirement for a mask or much of a costume is waived. (The club's theme was Gold Rush, he was the "mother load." The spelling seems to be intentional...)
It's a big deal. The Governor came.
I cannot say if he bought a fresh pretzel from the street vender in front...
The queen came, too, though I'm not sure who outranks whom here.
And there is also no mention in the dictionary of the ubiquitous "golden slippers" everyone wears.
The early paraders are the rough and rowdy "comic" brigades, which dress in dresses and carry parasols. And wear gold slippers.
Until the 70s, this meant drunk men in drag. But now in addition to the drunk men in drag, there are women and children. the dancing is limited to half-hearted attempts at moving their feet and waving the parasols in time.
Costumes have such tradition that, aside from the colors, they look very alike: satiny, frilly, gaudy.
Except sometimes there are thematic variations (Fight Like a Girl, was the theme)...
...and innovations:
There are also beads, but they are presently a low-key part of the parade with none of the debauchery associated with them in New Orleans.
Institutions both local and general take a skewering. Being South Philly, the Catholic church is particularly targeted by these "nuns":
But the bulk of mummers are tradesmen and craft workers of the blue-collar variety. This shows through in some of the mumming.
The comics bring their own recorded music with them, usually in undecorated rental trucks. From a distance, this would have looked like a Penske/UHaul(r) parade.
This wall of sound took three portable generators and made so much noise that the clubs behind it could get no closer than three blocks, whether from the noise or the pressure wave.
But some of the clubs piled a brass band into an open truck for their marching cadence. These were my favorites.
After the comics came the fancies. Not entirely sure what the fancies did or how they competed, but their hand-dragged floats were fun to see. All of the animals seemed to have wings
And their costumes were decidedly, well, fancy. When the wind picked up some of these guys looked like they could get airborne.
The big hoorah in the day, however, is the string band competition. String bands have percussion, saxophones, more saxophones, and even more saxomaphones, accordians, double basses (no kidding the bear-sized wooden things you see in the symphony), and banjoes. I saw a couple of fiddles, too. But the music is good and largely recognizable.
The string bands are the ones who stop, erect backdrops and scenery in the street, and play a five-minute medley dancing out some kind of a theme. These guys did Bugs Bunny.
The competition is intense, and bragging rights for the next year are on the line. They drill and construct and practice for a whole year. Plans are probably guarded more closely than the Hope diamond all year. Until New Year's Day.
There were 16 or 17 string bands this year, and I only lasted on the street through a handful of them.
This is not a parade for the faint-hearted. It starts at 9:45am, and goes through 5:15pm. Napping is permitted.
It wasn't my heart that was faint, but my frozen toes that did me in. I ended up walking home and watching the last dozen on TV.
Who won? Well, the judging is still going on at the moment of this posting, but my sister has her vote in for the Fralinger club. I don't know, Aqua had a pretty nice presentation, and Hegeman and Polish American were outstanding this year. See what hobbies you could have if you lived in Philly?
