What is it with marches? I don't get it.
(What is it with Andy Rooney? Why am I starting to sound like him?)
I mean the typical for-this, agin'-that, stop-the-war, start-the-war parades winding along, looking forlorn and windblown as they chant their stupid slogans in front of the Legislature or whatever.
Do they imagine that the oppressed workers (i.e., the people with jobs) will down tools and walk in their wake? Will the military come rushing out of their barracks and storm the barricades?
Not likely.
In the early days of Hollywood, a press agent representing an actor went to argue his client's case to a producer. [Note: dialogue is approximate. I wasn't there.]
Agent: "Max, Max. He's perfect for this role!"
Producer: "He's a bum!"
Agent: "Let me bring him here, and then you can decide. He's in a hotel just a mile away."
Producer: "Oh, all right. Bring him over, but he's still a bum."
So the agent repaired to the hotel, and he and the actor began walking back (this was in the days before limousine service). to the studio.
The agent had a trick up his sleeve, though; or rather a cloth sack beneath his coat, filled with nickels and dimes and pennies. The bottom corner of it was snipped open, and as they walked he released a steady dribble of coins.
Keep in mind that a nickel at the time would buy you a full meal and dessert at a diner.
At first they were followed by the usual street urchins; but as the commotion and clamour swelled, then ordinary people on ordinary business joined in, and soon several thousand people were giddily following them, scooping up coins..
When they were back in the producer's office, the press agent threw open the window shutters and pointed out at the shouting mob.
"See! See how the people love him!"
I'm not really sure what this has to do with political marches; but then, neither does Andy Rooney.