Comic Is As Comic Does

The honest truth is, I never liked the Mummers Parade.

The most vivid memory of the parade from my youth is how angry it made my grandfather. You see, back in the 1960’s, the Comic Divisions were still wearing blackface and strutting an exaggerated jigaboo shuffle up Broad Street, to the delight of thousands of cheering white Philadelphians. It was a scene straight out of Amos and Andy, with every ugly stereotype imaginable masquerading as lampoon.

Blacks who complained were waved off as overly sensitive whiners – always crying about some perceived mistreatment at the hands of the white man and incapable of good humor. They finally amended the policy late in the decade, but the entire Mummers Parade still stuck in Grandpop’s craw, and by extension, mine too.

I mention this politically incorrect slice of Philadelphia life only because in last week’s parade, the Mummers were at it again.

Comic brigade B. Love Strutters titled their performance “Aliens of an Illegal Kind”, and featured Geno’s Steaks proprietor Joey Vento.

Vento, you’ll recall, created quite a stir when he tacked up a sign in the South Philly cheesesteak emporium’s window stating, “This is America. When ordering, speak English.” Immigrants, foreign nationals, tourists and even some native Philadelphians were incensed, and the city’s Human Relations Commission mounted a weak, half-hearted inquiry that led nowhere. Vento, meanwhile, was hailed as a conquering hero by every flag-waving, immigrant-hating, my-country-right-or-wrong redneck for a thousand miles.

So, as the B. Love Strutters float labeled “Gewizno’s Steaks” cruised slowly up Broad, Vento popped out waving a poster reading, “What?” and tossed cheesesteaks to the adoring crowd.

Then, and this is my favorite part - an announcer yells, "Uh-oh, here comes the Border Patrol!" B. Love Strutters representing Border Patrol agents with cowboy hats and wooden rifles pretended to hold back a crowd of "immigrants" from storming the set up fences. As the immigrants broke free, they traded their country's flag for an American flag, and a Mummer dressed as President-elect Barack Obama handed out Green Cards.

Funny stuff, huh? As my daughter used to say, “So funny I forgot to laugh.”

Naturally, the blogosphere was instantly aflame with charges of racism and xenophobia, followed by counter-charges of “Well, they benefit from living in America, they should speak English!” and “It was the Comics! Can’t these people take a joke?” reminiscent of the brush off retort from the 60’s when it was used against those ever-complaining Black people.

In all candor, though, throughout this entire immigration brouhaha, the African-American community has been seemingly silent – but there are several factors that play into that.

As white folks love to point out, everyone in this country, save the nearly extinct Native Americans, are the descendants of immigrants. This is undeniably true. However, only the African came here not of his own free will, seeking a better life, but as chattel - destined to a miserable existence of servitude, torment, and hard labor. We are the original huddled masses yearning to breathe free, yet our greeting to these shores was not Lady Liberty and Ellis Island, but heavy chains and a heavier whip.

So forgive us if we aren’t hopping up and down about some dirt poor Mexicans swimming across the Rio Grande for the grand privilege of spending the next several years picking fruit for pennies a day. Our grandparents did more than their measure of sharecropping, and it’s not what you’d call the lush life.

The same howling, saber-rattling Americans who would build giant fences and close the border to anyone who isn’t from Europe would never think of getting rid of their beloved Consuela, who takes care of their bratty kids; or Raul, who faithfully trims their hedges every week.

They don’t look in the back of the house at their favorite high-end restaurant, where nearly the entire kitchen staff is comprised of hard working immigrants, many of whom speak very little English.

They don’t take notice when they drive past the farms and orchards of New Jersey and rural Pennsylvania - where the backbreaking planting, picking and packaging is performed by immigrants who rise well before dawn and work until they run out of daylight.

So no, don’t expect Black folks to come running when a controversy boils down to “us” versus “them.” If there’s one thing we’ve learned in 400 years, it’s that we are not included in “us.”

I wonder if next year the Mummers would sponsor a performance titled, “The Big Payback”, where Black strutters march up Broad Street whipping white folks at random and selling their children into slavery.

Not so funny now, is it?