One day you'll just have to have your own parade, you white-bread, plain ole "Amuricans" of multi-British Isles and possibly Dutch ancestry. Seriously. Those of you with limited and/or ill-defined ethnic heritage (and nothing to prove) will simply get all dressed up one day and march your lily-pale, boring asses down Elm Street. We'll come and we'll all wear some kind of plaid boxers and something green--since we don't know our Scots tartans from our Irish limericks. We'll sport simple T-shirts, silk-screened with Queen Elizabeth's somber kisser or maybe the Union Jack. We can carry a bunch of tulips and at least one grilled Velveeta-cheese-and-bologna sandwich each. And occasionally, when we're tired of marching and singing "American Pie," we can all sit down on the pavement, in unison, then shout, in unison, "Help! We've fallen and... More >>>
International affairs: Dallas celebrates its colorful sides.