Just past noon, Buddy McMahon and I jumped into the parade at 61st Street joining our classmates and teachers from LaSalle Academy marching up Fifth Avenue. This was non-regulation—starting the parade late and dressed as clowns (we paid the piper with a “knuck off the head” from Brother Brendan the next day at school). We broke off at the Met Museum to run east to the river and spent the late afternoon enjoying a bucket of swill at Carl Schurz Park with a crowd in the Hockey Field and music playing from various radios. Afterwards, five of us started a neighborhood walkabout. Around six, we ended up on 85th Street between First and Second Avenues in front of a building where someone had thrown away a large convertible couch, a straight chair, and a refrigerator box. Ekis turned the giant box into a desk and put it in front of the chair, and Romano, Muller, Feldman, McMahon and I took turns hosting the Johnny Carson show. Romano did a pretty good Ed McMahon. We invited people walking home from work and school to join us on the show; some did and most takers were noticeably impaired walking back from the parade or a gin mill.
Muller was the best host, while Romano served “You are correct, sir” to Johnny. Ekis tried to spin a plate on a stick but we told him it was the wrong program, and threatened to send him over to a couple of drunks across the street who were doing the Ed Sullivan Show.
After we exhausted this routine and got sick of ducking the crap that people were throwing at us out the windows, we moved on. Between First and York Avenues, Freddy found a standing lamp without a shade that was a perfect prop. Our first stop: Loftus Tavern on the corner of 85th Street. We went in, dropped a quarter in the juke box for two songs (a recent change from the usual three-for-a-quarter or one-for-a-dime), and out came the Beatles singing No Reply. We sang too, into our imaginary mike on top of the standing lamp. Gathered closely around the lamp in sweet harmony, we sung the 45s flip-side, I’m a Loser. Loose change rolled towards our feet. This was a good sign—if coins were thrown, they didn’t like us, but rolled coins meant we were entertaining (kind of). We sung Witchcraft and Night Day before moving back into the Beatles catalogue. After an hour, we pocketed our money and took our show over to Killarney Castle on Third Avenue. There, our reception was less enthusiastic, but we blocked most of the coins coming at our heads with our arms up.
Erin Go Bragh!
My parent's dog Tonte getting her Irish up!
Thomas Pryor has been featured on A Prairie Home Companion and This American Life, and his work has appeared in the New York Times. He curates City Stories: Stoops to Nuts, a storytelling show at the Cornelia Street Café on the second Tuesday of the month (next one April 10th). Check out his blog Yorkville: Stoops to Nuts.
