Honk!
red for a reason
We love crazy leftists and we love marching bands, so when our friend Luke came to church just to let us know about a festival combining the two we just had to go, nevermind that we were completely unprepared. Honk! was calling!
I suppose that improvisation was in the spirit of the thing anyhow, and the timing worked out perfectly for us to get to the Cambridge Common just in time to catch most of the parade. And what a parade it was! Bands, puppets, bands, anti-Zionist chanters, and more bands! Also a roller-derby team and people on bicycles. There were only two issues with our lack of preparation, one of which was our lack of a proper camera; moving parade units are hard to photograph effectively at the best of times and impossible with a cell phone camera with no zoom and a three-second shutter delay. So you'll have to take my word for it that it was totally awesome and may have spoiled us for any other parades, ever.
One of the coolest parts—well, besides the marching cello and the anti-Scott Brown buffalo totem—was the presence of tons of kids. It made me worry that we were doing our boys a disservice by not involving them in crazy alternative lifestyles until Leah pointed out that we do some tolerably crazy things ourselves and, besides, we have plenty of time yet. I can tell you that we've been practicing music at home pretty much non-stop since!
all types in attendance
After the parade we pushed through the crowds to Harvard Square, where Honk! combined with Octoberfest to produce the biggest festival we've ever experienced. We heard some music, chatted with friends last seen at a parade in Lexington, and had a surprising amount of money sucked out of our pockets in the interest of feeding ourselves and supplying Harvey with amusements. You'd think four stages of live band music plus break dancers, costumed freaks, and more people than we've seen in the last six months would have kept him entertained, but the Thomas-inspired road train ride proved to be completely irresistible and returned in Harvey enjoyment well more than the six dollars it cost. We didn't pay for the bounce house, though, so some tears for that.
But it was starting to rain by then anyways, so under our umbrella—hey, even improvising we come prepared!—we made our happy way back to the car. Which of course broke down half-way home, but that's another story.
Next year's festival is already on our schedule—or would be, that is, if the dates were actually published yet—and next time we'll bring our own food. Perhaps we'll bicycle there as well.