Chasing pastel eggs seems to be the most appropriate way to commemorate the Crucifixion and then the rising of Christ on Easter, right?
Americans know exactly how to turn a religious holiday into a commercial one. Easter, the most holy Christian holiday, is no exception. During the holiday, we watch hyper kids on the verge of Type-2 Diabetes inhaling plastic bags of chocolate bunnies from CVS.
Growing up in a devout Catholic Polish family, I learned early on about Easter traditions and customs including painting pastel eggs. My earliest memory at age 5, was my grandmother’s graphic and detailed description of how Jesus died . This might seem like child brutality to the average American parent who coddles and overprotects, but the grandmotherly lesson did little to damage this little girl. After all, I grew up in Queens, swearing like a truck driver from the age of 3. You see, kids are really resilient. But if you don’t believe me, please ask the National Institute of Health to conduct a study on Catholic offspring of immigrants whether they suffer from PTSD later on in life. I would name the study, “Do children of immigrants suffer from PTSD upon learning of Easter’s true origins?” I am sure I can get this funded within the week since the US government has the funds. Unfortunately, the government squanders and wastes more money on inane research studies faster than a Saudi princess’s unbridled shopping spree in Paris’ Eighth Arrondissement.
As an adult I celebrate my family’s Easter tradition by going to church. I chuckle to myself that this is the one day a year Americans shed their sweats and flip flops to wear their finest. And don’t be shocked that I go to church. This potty-mouth enjoys her prayers. “Oh, Lord, I really love those neon Bakelite buckle shoes from Barney’s. Please, God, let them have size 8.5 in stock during their next sale.”
Once the congregational song and dance routine is over, I high (Peter-Cotton) tail-it to Fifth Ave, New York City for the Easter Hat Parade.
The annual Easter Hat Parade is like a hit of ecstasy without the residual harm. Imagine a beaming, clapping child-like giddiness, but without the tripping. You can witness every color imaginable in the creative, custom costuming worn by participating spectators and pets. The parade or rather promenade has the energy of Mardi Gras without the nudity, cheap baubles, projectile vomiting and morning-after pills.
I hope all of you who celebrate Passover or Easter laughed and ate yourselves senseless. If you don’t celebrate religious holidays then I hope you eat like mad because food is much better than many things, including sex.
I ate so much Kielbasa and smoked meats, if you happen to smell a funky, garlicky odor, that is me belching for the next week.
In the meantime you can read my Easter NYC parade post from 2014 and 2013 and view more photos in this slideshow.
Join in the conversation. Leave a comment.