It happens every year. A boat full of pirates hit the shore of Tampa Bay bearing beads and schlepping beer. The streets are blocked off to traveling cars, making way for the swarms of party-goers while dozens of hand-made floats make their way down Bayshore Boulevard.
Now, I must admit that after five consecutive years of attending Gasparilla, I'm still not really sure what I'm celebrating. The invasion of pirates in our city? The exploiting of women for plastic beads? Or just delighting in the fact that we can endulge in a typically illegal activity of having an open container of alcohol in public?
No matter what the reason, I can't get enough. I love Gasparilla. In fact, my collection of beads and pictures forms a larger and larger sacred pile in my house each year. And, this year will be no exception. Not to break tradition, my best friend will be flying all the way from Pittsburgh to celebrate the day. Yes, it's that big of a deal. I like to think of it as a national holiday. Thanksgiving meets Mardi Gras, if you will. Except this time, the Americans are the ones being attacked and raided. And, we love it.
To an outsider of the city, the ritual may seem strange. To me, it's a day to commemorate Florida folklore. And, why not?
So, wake up early this Saturday, wash your eggs down with some grog, and make Jose Gaspar proud. I'll see you there!
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