© jnorling
There are a lot of Irish people in San Francisco. Irish, and Russians, and Italians, and Chinese people too, but at one point, the Irish people reached critical mass in S.F.’s city government. The outcome? They began a Saint Patrick’s Day parade. By 1968, the event reached gala status and filled the downtown streets with marching bands and enthusiasts.
...they didn’t request tapes or photos.
The San Francisco Saint Patrick’s Day parade was a straight affair, full of high school marching bands, drum and bugle corps, and various social societies like the Knights of Columbus and the Pioneer Daughters. There was a review stand set up in Union Square for the dignitaries including, of course, the mayor, the chief of police, and local politicians including a Congressman or two. We thought it might make an opportune time to lay down a little “good trouble.”
© jnorling
We had put together a band that consisted of everyone in the San Francisco Mime Troupe, including writers, designers, techies, actors blowing plastic horns and tin penny whistles. We had a drum section that included a bass drum with a gorilla painted on the head encircled by the words “GORILLA MARCHING BAND.” Thankfully, we boasted a sprinkling of bona fide brass players and one lone clarinetist.
We worked up a small repertoire of parade standards including “Saints,” “Yankee Doodle,” and “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” We also played a terrifying version of the “Star-Spangled Banner” in which we would scream and moan about the rockets’ red glare and bombs bursting in air. We put together street beats, some of them quite snappy. My favorite was a rock and roll back and forth between snare and bass drum, with the cymbals clashing out eighth notes on the upbeat, a real wrist breaker.
We were not quite up to snuff when we decided to enter the San Francisco Mime Troupe Gorilla Marching Band in the parade. But what the hell, any confusion would contribute to the subterfuge that we sought, to comment upon the icons of straight society by trying to represent them. We would try our very best to perform our marching songs and maneuvers as described by S.F. historian Woody LaBounty, with our most “earnest, radical, Marxist, clown-ragged efforts.”
We also choreographed a surprise bit for our “majorettes,” who were majorettes in name only. The whole band — including the majorettes — wore rags, draped over front and back in a shapeless tatter, with more glued to the crown and flat brim of old army helmets. Several of the majorettes had beards, lending a ragged androgynous look to the band. In addition to their flutes or horns or tambourines, each majorette carried the fragment of a sign that — when assembled — read GET OUT OF VIETNAM.
We were accepted, at least on paper, by the parade committee and assigned a slot. It’s probably just as well that they didn’t request tapes or photos and there was no video tape. We were in! Good trouble, comin’ up. We had a conductor and a majorette who carried a sign on camouflage cloth (long before the Persian Gulf wars made it hip) but no real leader. On the day of the parade, we picked up a parade marshal, a tall man in a long, burlap cape over a tartan kilt who carried a long staff just like the drum major of a bagpipe corps. He resembled New York’s Moondog, was vocally schizoid in a smart, visionary sort of way and comported himself with great pomp and impeccable dignity.
The parade officials were extremely busy getting the bands in sequence and had little time to notice our bizarre presence in the blurred lineup of purple and gold, red and black, white patent-leather boots, palomino horse brigades, and fez-adorned Shriners. So away we went, our drums tattooing, our brass blowing, and our ragged uniforms flapping.
Along the way, at the call of our marshal, the majorettes would unfurl the separate parts of their sign and sidestep into sequence, the Gorilla Band would march in place and the unfurled signs urged the general populace to GET OUT OF VIETNAM. The response was scattered and varied. We drew about 50 percent cheers, 30 percent cat calls from construction workers above us —in 1968 the working guy and most labor unions hadn’t gotten it yet — and 20 percent boos, a pretty accurate cross-section of American opinion on the Vietnam war in March, 1968.
By the time we hit the review stand with its mayoral entourage, our good-trouble surprise had shaped up snappily and our mixed reception had given us confidence. The marshal gave the call, the band stopped, the majorettes stepped into sequence, GET OUT OF VIETNAM whipped into upright position, and we waited.
No response. The sun had sunk below the buildings surrounding Union Square, the dignitaries looked weary and distracted, the crowd gave us a few random whoops and we moved on, confused by our curtain call, but our job complete.
All in all, I feel okay about saying the performance of the San Francisco Mime Troupe Gorilla Marching Band at the Saint Patrick’s Day parade qualified as good trouble, and the band played on for years.
That night, we all ate and drank and listened to the articulate and colorfully insane world view of our own Moondogish grand marshal.
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Charles DegelmanWriter, editor, and educator based in Los Angeles. He's also played a lot of music. Degelman teaches writing at California State University, Los Angeles.
Degelman lives in the hills of Hollywood with his companion on the road of life, four cats, assorted dogs, and a coterie of communard brothers and sisters.
Sounds like quite the rag-tag bunch of performers, Charles. The Stanford Band has similar qualities…not real musicians, doesn’t march in step (they are a scatter band and run to their formations), they like to do “hip”, sardonic half time shows, commenting on politics that have gotten them permanently banned from BYU and Notre Dame (!).
My David decided to join the band during his freshman year. He didn’t play an instrument and takes after me. He is 5’6″ tall. He was taught to play the tuba! I think that was for irony. By sophomore year he was section leader, which came with a lot of responsibility and took a lot of his time. He wore a fishing cap with political buttons all over it and a red vest with white shirt. None of this drum line crap for Stanford.
Glad you all made your statement during St. Patrick’s Day. Having lived most of my life in Boston or Chicago, those are riotous holidays around these parts.
Thanks, Betsy. The Stanford band sounds like a hoot! Sardonic is always entertaining.
Great story, Charlie, I was sure you would have some good trouble to write about. Interesting to remember that in March 1968, only half of America opposed the war. How great that you had those fragments of signs that, when assembled, read GET OUT OF VIETNAM! And how puzzling that by the time you reached the reviewing stand, the dignitaries were too weary to notice. But you made a point, and that was the important thing!
Thanks, Suzy. I do remember that the audience opinions fell both ways, speaking to your 50/50 pro/antiwar American sentiments. Those were rugged days, there was a lot of drunkenness in the crowd and no one was shot, so a good time was had by all.
What a perfect example of making a bit of good trouble, Charles. Your band literally made some noise.
Yes, Laurie, and the concept stuck. That band marched for years in one form or another, always with a gorilla painted on the bass drum. I think I can safely say without fear of contradiction — Viva gorilla warfare!
A pitch-perfect story, Charles, even if the band wasn’t. You skillfully captured San Francisco at this time as well. Even in the mid-70s, I’d look out my office window on California and Market on St. Patrick’s Day, and by noon the street was packed with people drinking green beer. No wonder your band got drowned out, but you tried to make good trouble.
Made me smile. You brought back memories of seeing various Mime Troupe productions–always entertaining and sharp. My favorite was a play in which everyone was given a bingo card, and at a certain point everyone who had BINGO shouted it out–and that was everyone all at once! This was accompanied by a song called “everyone wants something for nothing”–and we were all guilty. Bingo!
Glad I raised a smile, Khati.
As always your stories are great fun Charles, and I’m sure you got in lots more good trouble over the years!
Your marching band with a hidden message story reminds me of visiting my son in college at Brown in the late 90s. The infamously corrupt Buddy Cianci was mayor of Providence then despite having been a convicted felon.
When he would show up with his entourage at football games the band would play the theme from The Godfather.
I have been a huge fan of the Mime troupe since “General Waste-More-Land” and “General Hershey Bar” showed up on our campus in 1968! In my alternate life, I often fantasized that I would join them. I have seen performances in Atlanta, Boston, Cambridge, San Francisco and a few other places. So any chance to learn more of the lore and the back-story is welcome. Good trouble, maybe. But good consciousness raising? Definitely.
Aha! A fan! I left the Troupe in 1970[?] after a very exciting, intense and productive tenure. It was a formative experience and they have touched many with their blend of politics, satire, and general all-around insanity. As luck will have it — or misfortune, depending on your POV — I’m writing a memoir (or is it a novel? or is it history? or is it all a tall tale a la Mark Twain) set in the Mime Troupe during the stormy anti-war years while I’m weathering this more recent covid-19 storm.
Some Mime Troupe lore and back-story can be found here on my Retro posts at https://www.myretrospect.com/stories/outside-agitators-showbiz-goes-to-the-demo/ AND https://www.myretrospect.com/stories/stanley-mouse-and-the-little-white-pill/
So cool that you were part of that merry band. I recently had correspondence with Henry Picciotto, who also was involved with them for a few years; perhaps not the same years though? i look forward to checking out that link for Mime troupe lore, and eventually reading the memoir, or whatever it turns out to be. Meanwhile, my copy of Gates of Eden arrived a couple weeks ago and I just started it a couple days ago.
Don’t know Henry P but many have tripped and tumbled on the SF Mime Troupe boards. Delighted that you took an interest in Gates of Eden! Love to hear from you re: Gates at whatever pace you turn the pages.
Moondog! Omogosh, hadn’t thought about him in ages! Thanks for sharing this story. I probably saw you perform back in the day, but definitely missed this parade.
Yes, Risa, Moondog. Of course our parade marshal wasn’t as creative musically as the remarkable NYC Moondog, but he made a great proxy! The parade infiltration was a one-off, I don’t think we repeated it the following year.