The day started off with the alarm going off at 5:15 a.m. after having gone to bed around 1:00 a.m. due to a pre-Thanksgiving crisis. Our turkey was bad, not as in “naughty bad,” but as in “sleeps with the fishes and smells like fishes” bad. So, the Thanksgiving Eve hunt to find thawed out Turkey breast began (or as I kept calling it, much to my mother’s horror, “Turkey boob”). Needless to say I was incoherent at 5:15 a.m. And for the record, I don’t get up that early on a work day, let alone the most gluttonous day of the year after we embarked on a late night “You saved Thanksgiving Charlie Brown escapade.” The first thought that popped into my groggy head was “I can hit snooze, it’s not time to make the turkey” like I was in some warped Thanksgiving Version of the old Dunkin’ Donuts commercial with Fred who would get up mumbling to himself “It’s time to make the donuts.”

Then I thought, “why would I have to make a turkey? I have a wedding to go to.” Wedding? What wedding?

Despite my initial sleepy ramblings to myself, I was up and at em. This year, the role of the grumpy early morning riser was played by my understudy, none other than my very own mother. I was in an oddly chipper mood as I tried to rally the troops by bribing them with a trip to Dunkin Donuts. It was with pumpkin donuts and munchkins in hand that we headed crosstown to a little place I like to call tourist hell to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

We maneuvered ourselves to a near front row spot on Central Park West and 63rd Street. Prime real estate! The only people in front of us were tourists who had gotten there at 4:30 and 5:30 respectively and were seated so no one blocked our views. All was going well until some jerk from LI tried to push his kid to the front of the line in front of the tourists who had been there since 4:30 (didn’t anyone tell Long Island that the early bird gets the worm?). LI lifted his kid over the police barricade and plopped him in one of the tourist’s chairs. Insanity ensued…the cops were called…nothing says “Happy Thanksgiving, welcome to New York” like some aggressive local trying to bully his way into the spotlight. Thanks for helping our image buddy! Not to fear, New York’s finest arrived and 86′d Long Island. (Send him back, the crowd cried).

It wasn’t too long after Officer Friendly left the scene, that the parade started. I don’t watch the parade when I’m in the States. I once watched it in Quito while waiting for a flight back to the US later that day, but otherwise I boycott the TV version. The TV version does NOT do it justice. I am now a life long fan of the Macy’s Day Parade in the live version! It is now my secret mission to be in it next year.

We’ve established my childlike love of Sesame Street that continues to this day. My mom shares this love with me since she was forced to watch multiple episodes of the Street back in the day. You would’ve thought the Sesame Street float was full of rock stars the way I carried on. I guess to me they are rock stars and Big Bird might as well have been a taller feathery version of Bono for all I cared. I went crazy when I saw Bob, Gordon, and Maria (she waved to me, btw). Sure, I’ve seen them at various Sesame Street events when it went on tour, but that was back in the day. It was cool to see them still going strong. There was Big Bird and his nest, Oscar and his can, Bert & Ernie, Count and Cookie, Grover and a few other new friends. Although I’ve also seen some of them on tour, it was uber cool to see the real ones in New York rather than the Sesame on Ice posers. It felt like I was at a family reunion with family that I actually liked. All that was missing was Mr. Hooper and Snuffy.

The floats were also uber cool. My favorites were Snoopy, Kermit, Buzz Light Year, and The Doughboy (it was his first flight and he did a good job). We saw Santa’s sleigh around 10:30 a.m. When I saw Santa I might as well have been Natalie Wood in Miracle on 34th Street. I wanted to sit on Santa’s lap and tell him I’ve been good and ask him for something special for Christmas and not of an official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle, but more something along the lines of tall, dark, handsome, single, and straight. Somebody needs to tell the fat man I’ve been more than patient!

I thought seeing it once would be enough and I could check it off my New York Bucket List, but after being there live, I want to start a tradition. However, I wish it could include Bloody Marys and Mimosas. Note to self, milk my connections to people I know who live on Central Park West. Then I can incorporate a little Holiday Cheer in my cup without judgment from the tourists.