New Yorkers love a parade. Give us a reason to celebrate, and we’ll be out there with our flags and our confetti, making a ruckus. When people think “ticker-tape parade,” they usually envision pictures from the sixties—the one for John Glenn, the one for the Apollo 11. At least, I know I do. Those are the images I refer to in my mind: glorious black-and-white photos, snapshots culled from a different time. But ticker-tape parades continue to this day.
That said—I was never a die-hard sports fan. Don’t get me wrong. I am a New Yorker, so I love our teams. But I’m not the type of girl who celebrates a big win. Well, I wasn’t until the Giants won the Super Bowl.
I have a tiny view of Broadway from my office, and I could see a sliver of the Giants’ celebratory parade—and all of the ticker-tape snow. Most of my coworkers had gone to watch in person, but I decided to stay inside to get a little extra work done. I knew that the throngs of fans outside would make going out for lunch a hassle. The streets were full of rowdy people. But at least they were happy rowdy people.