From this morning's post
For the Rose Festival Centennial, the Grand Marshal(s) will be selected by a community-wide nomination process. Using a short story format, community members can nominate a family member, a neighbor, a co-worker or themselves by submitting a 100-word (or less) essay on why that individual should be Grand Marshal. Rose Festival parade committee representatives will judge essays on individual's personal and historical connection to the festival.
Essays should be submitted via email to Jessica Metteer at email@example.com or fax to 503.227.6603. Deadline for entries is Tuesday May 1. Winners will be announced by the last week of May. All submitted nominees must be available to ride in the Grand Floral Parade Saturday, June 9.
I'd obviously be perfect for the gig. Here's my first draft:
I think I would make a fantastic Grand Marshal for this year's Rose Festival parade. I'm sorry to say I have no direct ties or interest in the festival. I've only seen the parade on television, I've only been to the Fun Center a few times and I routinely mock the entire thing every year. Regardless, I feel that I would best represent the challenges and changes that this fair city of ours faces in 21st century. I don't make much money, I can't afford a condo in the South Waterfront but I do so love microbrews, Powell's Books and all the same stuff everyone else living here does (although I could take or leave Sam Adams, Charter Reform, Pioneer Courthouse Square and New Seasons).
I'm the quintessential "young creative" you may have heard about, although that term is getting long in the tooth. I'm left-leaning, self-serving, navel-gazing and semi-underemployed with a proclivity for complaining about everything and artistic endeavors but no outlet or means to make any $ off of them. I wear Converse All-Stars and a hoodie even though that look is way old, I sigh a lot and my iPod is chock full of obscure local bands and indie artists I listen to only because everyone would mock me if I didn't. The Blow? The Shins? Menomena? Just between you and me? They suck. And I thought that last Decemberists album was lacking. Twelve-minute long songs about cranes and the men who love them? Whatever, Meloy, whatever.
I even recycle and ride a bicycle! Sometimes!
If you let me serve as this year's Grand Marshall, I'll even buy some vintage clothes, give up animal products and promise to shop only at local business so I can act all snooty. I won't even complain when I get priced out of town in the near future and I'm forced to relocate to outer-Gresham by gentrification! I'm perfectly willing to become a walking, talking hipster cliche and to adjust my lifestyle to become the embodiment of the most stereotypical Portland resident my age imaginable.
I can also wave and smile like a mofo AND I promise to show up sober. No kava, I swear. Give me a ring.
Ok, that's at least 200 words too long. If I want to have any shot at this I should probably make up a story about waiting all day in the rain when I was a kid to see a float shaped like a Smurf and submit that instead.
I bet they'll give the job to someone who actually deserves it. Oh, well.
Labels: festivals, Portland