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Not in ye krewe? Off with your eyepatch
© St. Petersburg Times If you go to Saturday's Gasparilla parade, take pictures, lots of pictures, of pirates. Those photographs could some day be collectors' items. For if Ye Mystic Krewe of Gasparilla -- that gang of the made up and the stuck up -- has its way, starting next year only its members will be able to dress as pirates. The krewe that has controlled the parade for 99 years issued its edict in November. Since word of it leaked out a month later, the krewe members have done what people squirming in the spotlight do. They have blamed this dispute on us rotten lowlifes in the press. (Thank you, guys. This is a badge of honor.) But let's be clear: Three dozen krewes march in the parade. Some dress as Spanish conquistadors, some as old soldiers, some as wenches. Only a few of the krewes dress up as pirates and would be affected by the krewe's order. This is no comfort if you're among the unlucky. The Anna Maria Island Privateers would have to revamp their outfits from top to bottom to satisfy Ye Mystic Krewe. They'd have to dump their boat. "If they don't want us, we have plenty of other parades to do," barked the Privateers' Gregory Davidson. Here, at last, was one man unimpressed with the inflated self-importance of the Gasparilla Krewe. The impact of the order isn't the only issue. We're talking about status seeking, or more accurately, status keeping. The krewe claims one of the reasons for making itself the only band of pirates is a confusion of identity. Don't you know, its gentlemanly members sometimes get blamed for the wild conduct of others on the parade route who dress like them. See what happens when you let in the rabble? Since the krewe entered the 20th century in 1992 and integrated its membership, the parade has undergone a terrific transformation. It's big and noisy and filled with people of every stripe and variety. You can stand on the sidelines and see somebody you know. The other krewes that helped this happen threaten the specialness of being in Ye Mystic Krewe. If the cable guy and the delivery man can be a pirate, then where's the fun for the guy who was raised believing he came from what the social pages call a "prominent" family? In mid-January, Ye Mystic Krewe sent out a letter. It was a masterpiece. Much of it was spent explaining just how much good Ye Mystic Krewe does for Tampa. The pirates visit schoolchildren and old people. They raise scholarship money. Strange, the letter never so much as mentioned that other, newer krewes do similar charitable and civic work. Stranger still, the letter never addressed whether the involvement of the other krewes helped the parade grow to the mega-event it is now. But the letter from krewe captain Fred Dobbins did point out that Ye Mystic Krewe also promotes Tampa for the Convention and Visitors Bureau. Why, the parade that krewe members' grandfathers and great-grandfathers began does so much for the rest of us that the krewe has commissioned an economic impact study to prove it. Public money pays part of the Gasparilla tab. The public is invited. This means the event shouldn't be an exercise in private power and control. Every year, after the parade, there's a giant party held downtown. They call it PirateFest. There's a clue in there somewhere. Or is the krewe planning to change the name of the party to SnobFest? -- You can reach Mary Jo Melone at mjmelone@sptimes.com or (813) 226-3402.
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Times columns today From the Times Metro desk |
