Pride Day

On Saturday, I was faced with a conflict of allegiances. My band was scheduled to play at the town’s Pride Day event, as it does every year. For a change, I arrived over an hour early and discovered that my Tea Party group was there, too. I didn’t think they had operations this far north of their home base.

But I trotted over to say hello and help out. The problem was, I was wearing my band insignia polo shirt and people were confusing my band with the Tea Party. Then, I thought, well my patriotic colonial woman costume had just arrived. I could run back home (five minutes away), throw it on, and later, take it off for the concert.

People make fun of the costumes but I have no personal pride when it comes to displaying my affection for my country. Most people were amused, which was my intention; only a few Liberals smirked. The tea party group had a United States of America puzzle map. We turned the table to the front and invited kids to come help us “put America back together again.”

One grouchy old man snarled at me (as I held my American flag and my ramrod – I was supposed to be Molly Pitcher, but they say I looked more like Martha Washington) and asked if I was “one of them Tea Partiers?”

I thought to myself, well what do you think, buddy? Then he wanted to know if I was against Obama. I told him personally, yes, because I was against Big Government, High Taxes, and Corruption. He walked away grumbling. “I don’t want nothing to do with no Obama-haters.”

The other interesting customer was some woman representing a medical care provider. “Isn’t it great to live in America where you don’t have to be a Christian and bow to their God?” I was so speechless, I couldn’t bring myself to utter what I was thinking: I stood there, my finger pointing heavenward, “I’m not here to promote a particular religion; but I also don’t think it’s a great idea to insult God.” But that was her problem, not mine. In the Christian religion, praying (mind you, praying, not bowing) is a personal choice. In some other religions, it isn’t.

By the time the band was ready to play, I didn’t want to take off the costume, which of course was a mistake. If it wasn’t right to wear the band’s insignia inside the Tea Party’s tent, then I shouldn’t have been dressed as a Tea Partier during the concert.

My laziness got the better of me though (it was something of an ordeal getting into the costume in the first place) and the director was understandably upset. Still, it’s not like I drove any audience members away. People never pay attention to us at this particular concert. They don’t really need to sit to hear us anyway; it’s a small field and you can hear us from any point.

When kids are faced with an open, grassy field, they want to run, scamper and caper, not sit still; not with so many attractions around. So I didn’t feel all that bad. However, there’s another conflict next weekend between a parade and the N.J. Tea Party Rally at Great Adventure.

Since I discomfitted my band director, I owe it to him to attend the parade on Saturday. Besides it’s fifty bucks to get into Great Adventure at a time when I need to be watching my pennies. I had bought the costume with the notion of wearing it to the N.J. Tea Party Rally on Oct. 2nd.

But now I’ve had my chance to wear the costume, probably to greater good (we attracted quite a few visitors), so I can do my duty by my poor band and not neglect them. Besides, the autumn is just a fine time for parading. It’s supposed to be a cool, beautiful day Saturday. I’ll save money and a long drive and repay my band for being “out of uniform.”

Still, there was some solace, despite my error and the occasional critic, in sacrificing my “pride” by wearing a costume – the gratitude of all the townspeople who thanked us, the Tea Party, for being there.