As some of you may already be aware, your friend in this column (uh, me) has been named as the Seattle Seafair Grand Marshal for this year’s festival season.
I’m a pretty big deal right now, and will try to rise to the high throne of my new fiefdom in style, and with some grace and fairness to my new “subjects.” I hope not to abuse my power, but there will be a few new orders of business. As such:
1. You all must address me as “Sire” or “His Poobah-ness.”
2. I require a carriage with some horses.
3. I need some henchmen.
4. I require that we get our Sonics back, and shall immediately knight Chris Hansen.
5. Loaded’s song “Lords of Abbadon” will be the new state and city anthem.
6. Seattle Weekly shall now be dubbed McKagan Weekly. The writers here must write only glowing praise of His Poobah-ness, or face drawing and quartering.
7. John Roderick must report to me daily on the current state of “the hipster” in Seattle.
8. The rock band the Chasers shall be the new state band, and rock fans must be required to see them. You should anyhow, without the threat of the Poobah’s lash.
9. I require the month of June to be a sunny month.
10. Court judges and police officers must all wear Sonics jerseys, or Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, Heart, or Hendrix T-shirts.
11. Any criminal caught with a gun shall be sent immediately to the gallows.
12. I require a wizard hat, a sorting hat, and flowing robes of the finest silks and satins.
13. My daughters shall now be required to listen to me.
14. I require Alaska Airlines to use a picture of JP Patches on the tails of their planes.
15. I require that JP’s show should come back into reruns every morning on channels 4, 5, 7, and 13.
16. I require that the Mariners start to win . . . or a serious trip to the “front” will be in their future.
17. I require drivers to let other drivers in on the freeway when their blinker is on . . . on penalty of the guillotine.
18. I require Ben Gibbard to be the Public Minister of Baseball.
Oh, wait. This just in: Me being the Grand Marshal was simply a tactic so that my 11-year-old daughter, Mae, and I could ride in a parade together. Right. Forget about all that other stuff. That’ll come when I run for mayor.
Read more of Duff’s edicts at seattleweekly.com.reverb.
