"Now, were we supposed to meet on 43rd or 44th?"
If you're not sure where you belong in a parade, just follow some pipers.
Ah, here we are. Right between Cork and Tipperary, with the unique windows of the New York Yacht Club in the background.
I actually started wearing a kilt and marching in parades at this age, too, so I'm appreciative of this little girl's discipline.
Ready whenever you guys are. Can we please start to move?
[The parade started at 11:00am; this photo was taken at 12:30pm].
Members of "The Midtown Mob", aka FDNY Engine 65, who are housed in the oldest firehouse in Times Square. You can tell, because it looks to be only wide enough to fit a horse-drawn water wagon.
I was surprised at how many Glaswegians there were at the parade. Because of my Glasgow Celtic Football Club scarf, I was greeted with a number of cries of "C'mon the Hoops!" [the Celtic nickname and title of their team song; the "hoops" refer to the green and white bands on their uniforms]. This fellow was especially cheery and greeted me in an accent I haven't heard since my grandparents died. In other words, I had no clue what he was saying, but he was enjoying himself. In the background is one the entrances to St. Patrick's Cathedral.
Well, no parade is complete without the Sanitation Dept. guys following the entire company. I felt for the guys following those Irish hunters.