It's the celebration of the Chinese New Year and the intersection of 7th and H Streets in Chinatown will be filled with thousands of people to watch the dancing dragons and possibly catch a glimpse of the giant firecracker going off as it hangs off the elevated ladder of a firetruck. I have attended for three years in a row and every year the firecracker is a dud. I am beginning to adopt the belief that the same one is hung every year to draw in the crowd for an anticipated finale that never happens. Only then telling the crowd, "Better luck next year! See you then."
The revelers for the Chinese parade always interest me. People are full of observation and excitement on a Sunday afternoon. I see families and children and young professionals smiling and clicking cameras. I see people that are in a crowd all getting along and working together to share a place and turn at a better view from the curb. When the outdoor event is over they gather to various restaurants to taste a bit of ethnicity to celebrate the day.
What I notice most is what is not. I notice a nice pleasantness in not hearing vulgar mixes of words I choose not to have in my vocabulary. I appreciate a nice politeness that on any regular day would not be. I appreciate not hearing the yelling twang and squeals with cursing adverbs. There is no room for foul play and a street ruckus or lewd behavior. This is a day that I can like and enjoy in my city more than the usual day. It is the year of the rabbit.
While all the pleasantries are taking place in Chinatown, there is a dark contrast in nearby parts of the city. Many have no interest in knowing that it is the Chinese New Year. The focus of their afternoon has had nothing to do with anything productive or pleasant by my definition. Regardless of the afternoon events, people are gearing up to watch the Superbowl across the city. It is an event and for many a tradition regardless of your socioeconomic status.
Prior to the game the Safeway and Giant stores will sell out of party trays of shrimp and other pre-made empty-caloric deli carbs. It is not suspect to me that the Superbowl used to be the last Sunday of January when I was growing up; but now it miraculously is the first Sunday of the following month. Marketing across the masses; hence making it all the easier to swipe those food subsidy cards on all the prepared platters and trays that the normal bread earner does not entertain. But then again, you don't look at the price when you are not paying from your dollar or having to sacrifice something else for it. You just literally swipe it and get it. Yes, read into that.
During the game itself, the sectors and districts of the city that have a lot of street activity will be rather quiet. The calls will usually be for a domestic call or an argument that got out of hand, a drunk, or a fight that broke out over a bet or a gambling pool gone awry. After the game when the bets are tallied, the winners paid and the losers scorned; there will likely be some revenge stabbings or property damage over emotions and egos that were elevated by Remy Martin. Anything can escalate to a shooting and even a homicide.
While the mass of people are watching the Super Bowl in their homes or at a party, the men in blue are protecting your empty houses and confined to a squad car with a squealing police radio and a heater that usually does not work well enough in the middle of a cold damp winter. Many of the calls they get are nuisance calls or alarms going off, maybe a pizza delivery robbery or scam, but many will be a standoff among alcohol induced gibberish. The pops and bangs that possibly are heard this evening are in vast contrast to the potential ones earlier in the day.
