Seahawks Super Bowl Parade: Why I couldn't get enough

We all remember shared traumas — the earthquakes, assassinations, 9-11. Rarer are the civic opposites, the moments of pure joy that create those I-was-there-moments. If you want one of those, win yourself a Super Bowl.

You want an event that brings all classes, races and ethnicities together, don't go to a Noam Chomsky lecture. Win yourself a Super Bowl.

You want to unite East and West, Red and Blue, the 1 percent and the 99 percent? Win yourself a Super Bowl.

Want to prove that some days — probably many days — kids and teachers can learn more outside a school than inside? Win yourself a Super Bowl.

Want to experience the unity of tribal joy and bragging rights? Win yourself a Super Bowl.

Want to remember what it's like to have heroes? Win yourself a Super Bowl.

Want to see what 700,000 people in the streets actually looks like? Win yourself a Super Bowl.

Want to see mass numbers of people using public transit? Win yourself a Super Bowl.

Want to speculate about the power of the people to accomplish other things with great leadership, personnel and a plan? Win yourself a Super Bowl.

Want to see a police department that serves and protects as one with the people? Win yourself a Super Bowl.

Want to regenerate the locally owned dead-tree media — boost their sales, their egos, showcase what they can do for a city? Win yourself a Super Bowl.

Want to see the power of the 12th Man and Woman voice, of sticking with an effort through thick and thin over more than a generation? Win yourself a Super Bowl.

Want to see the counter to Seattle's habit of second guessing and gridlock? Win yourself a Super Bowl.

Want to make memories that will become the oral histories of the 22nd-century? That elders will recount as they speak about the day like no other, the first time Seattle brought a trophy home?

Win yourself a fucking Super Bowl.