Televised to 350 Million : Rose Parade Reveals a ‘World of Wonders’

King Kong roared! The damsel shrieked! Tarzan swung! Nessie got nosy!

And a good time, it seemed, was had by most.

Cheered on by an estimated throng of 1 million spectators, the festive, floral phantasmagoria known as the Rose Parade made its 98th appearance on the streets of Pasadena this New Year’s in a decidedly international celebration of “A World of Wonders.”

Marked by passages of beauty and whimsy, triumph and poignancy, the pageant evoked the usual oohs, ahhs, smiles and laughter from spectators who lined the 5 1/2-mile route. Despite chilly weather, they clapped along with marching bands, exchanged waves and shouts of “Happy New Year!” with Grand Marshal Pele and gave a rousing, standing ovation for two float riders--Voyager pilots Dick Rutan and Jeana Yeager, whose nine-day, around-the-world flight without refueling seemed made to order for the parade’s theme.

The event also cheered the Tournament of Roses organizers. For one thing, the parade moved smoothly, with only a few mechanical breakdowns. And the event that began in 1890 as an exercise in Pasadena civic pride reached an unprecedented international television audience. In addition to its usual 100 million-plus American TV audience, a broadcast was relayed by satellite to more than 30 foreign countries. The estimated foreign audience of 250 million was 10 times the parade’s previous record.

Law enforcement officers were also pleased. As crowds of 1 million go, this proved to be a relatively peaceable bunch, said Pasadena Police Lt. Lynn Froistad. Thousands camped and partied overnight along the parade route. Although more than 500 arrests were made in the parade area, only six arrests involved violence and there were no serious injuries, Froistad said. Most of the arrests--354--were for public drunkenness.

“It’s really been a pretty uneventful parade,” Froistad said.

That was the police perspective. The spectators had a different point of view--or perhaps, a million points of view. Although cynics might think that a Rose Parade is a Rose Parade is a Rose Parade, they would have gotten an argument in Pasadena.

There was, for example, the 15 members of a family originally from Cuenca, Ecuador, who cheered loudly and held a sign that read “Bienvenido Rey Pele” when the charismatic Brazilian socce1914729332sports hero of his time, passed them on Colorado Boulevard.

‘That’s the King’

“He’s the greatest,” said Victor Fajardo, 26, who flew in from New Jersey for the parade. “That’s the king. I used to watch him play when he was with the New York Cosmos. I came here especially to see him.”

Then again, there was the grandmother from Palm Springs who primed her grandchildren with information about the event. It was going to be terrific, she assured them, and then added: “Yeah, the only problem is the grand marshal is some basketball player I’ve never heard of.”

Several floats--decorated not merely with scores of different flowers, but with spices, seeds, nuts, vegetables and seaweed--proved to be crowd pleasers. There was the graceful “A Garden Full of Wonders” by the Carnation Co., the Sweepstakes Winner, featuring butterflies on flowers; the whimsical “Friendship Afloat” from the La Canada Flintridge Tournament of Roses Assn., a rollicking group of waterfowl paddling a boat with their webbed feet; “King Kong--the Eighth Wonder of the World,” in which actress Cezanne Trimble made like Fay Wray, kicking and screaming as the big, adoring ape lifted her high in the air; Culver City’s “Movie Magic,” in which stunt man Dick Hancock made like Tarzan, swinging on a vine.

The City of Los Angeles provided “A Hit Around the World,” a tribute to baseball and especially the Dodgers, with manager Tommy Lasorda and several players aboard. In a fitting cap to the 1986 season, the float struck out with the judges. But, hey, wait till this year.

Started to Smoke

Even the malfunctions served to entertain. One float, the City of San Bernardino’s “Festival of Fantasy” featuring a bobbing Chinese dragon head, had only gone a short way when it started to smoke. It had blown a radiator. In a matter of seconds, an auto club truck was there. The truck towed it through the rest of the parade, but the dragon never missed a bob.

The Baskin-Robbins’ long, cartoon-like “Loch Ness Monster” suffered a hydraulic pain in the neck. Nessie was supposed to lift his (her?) head above the crowd, but instead had to be guided carefully through some tight turns. For the spectators, Nessie’s nose got bigger and bigger.

“It was a little scary for a moment. He kept coming closer and closer,” said Lupe Vargas of Kingsburg, Calif., who was sitting in the front row. “But I guess I can’t complain. I never thought I’d get that close of a look.”

The international flavor of the parade made for some political drama not evident to the public. The Royal Jordanian Armed Forces Band, like other entries, was accompanied by men in white suits. These white-suiters were not Tournament of Roses volunteers, but undercover law enforcement officers providing extra security.

There were no incidents, but occasional anti-Arab grumbling could be heard in the crowd. Although Jordan is a considered a moderate, pro-Western Middle Eastern country, one woman was heard suggesting that the band should be allowed to perform “only in trade for a couple of American” hostages.

Voyager Pilots Cheered

Voyager pilots Rutan and Yeager, riding on the front of the “Romance of Italy” gondola design by Lawry’s Foods Inc., drew perhaps the biggest response, as many spectators got to their feet to cheer them.

A few floats later, Downey’s “Wings of a Dream” served as a poignant counterpoint. The float depicted the space shuttle heading away from the Earth. The design was approved only three days before the explosion of the Challenger; the float committee decided to proceed in honor of the seven astronauts who died and as a testimonial of faith in future space exploration. Much of the shuttle is constructed at the North American Rockwell plant in Downey.

Much of the entertainment, as usual, was provided by the parade watchers themselves.

Three students from California State University, Northridge, made themselves at home, with their living room ensemble from their Phi Delta Theta fraternity--two couches, a chair, a lamp and a TV, powered by a generator, as well as two rugs. “You could read by the light,” said Jim Holzer, a 20-year-old junior. “And also the light kept us from spilling beer onto the couch.”

They had been there since 6 a.m. Wednesday, but didn’t bring the couches until noon. “The cops kept coming back and telling us to get rid of the couches,” said Dean Deschryver, a 19-year-old sophomore. “But I guess they finally gave up.”

Rap Music

Robert Patton of Irvine was there with his family for the 17th year: “We can leave here, spend an hour driving home and then see most of the parade on TV. It gives you a chance of seeing the actual thing and then see what the rest of the world sees.”

There were several examples of rap-music-on-parade, including an unlikely sextet of young men from Hacienda Heights.

Although they likely will never cut an album or produce a video, the Rap Boys were a hit with the crowd prior to the parade’s start. First they led various cheers and got the crowds on opposing sides of the street in rival yells of “Less Filling!” and “Tastes Great!” Then they blasted the theme to “Hawaii Five-O” on a portable stereo and pretended to row an outrigger, sliding their behinds across the sidewalk.

They also sang, through a bullhorn, a rap song--unrhythmic, they confessed:

We come from Heights every year

We yell, scream, holler and cheer without no beer

It’s the California sun that brings all the fun

And this is our spot whether you like it or not

I know we’re all white, but this is our rap

We can’t sing or dance, so we’ll make it fast

They had serious rap competition some blocks away in Wilbur Johnson of Detroit, a University of Michigan fan. The 32-year-old Johnson, wearing a T-shirt that proclaimed “A Rap Machine for the Wolverines,” said he took a Greyhound bus across country and passed a hat on New Year’s Eve trying to raise money for a game ticket.

Yelling through a megaphone, he rapped:

It makes no difference

Our team is a great,

It can beat anybody

From the Pac Eight

Johnson said his next appearance will be at Venice Beach, where he will try to raise money for the bus ticket home.

As usual, the Rose Parade claimed converts from the frigid Midwest. Although Californians found this New Year’s cool, in the 50s for much of the parade, Minnesota resident Lance Mueller, 23, who arrived in Southern California recently to visit his brothers, said he has decided to stay.

What convinced him was a phone call during the parade to a friend back home who told him the weather there was “15 degrees and miserable,” Mueller said. “Back home everybody’s staying indoors, and here last night people were partying and sleeping in the streets. I can’t believe it.”

But for some, the parade proved to be a pain. Whereas the TV cameras focus on the beginning of the parade, where the marchers and performers are fresh, they miss the scene at Victory Park on Sierra Madre. There were no cameras, no judges and no more crowds. This was the end of the road.

‘It Was Hairy’

It was here that Trimble, after a jolting ride in King Kong’s palm for more than two hours, nursed the red scratch marks covering her arms from the wrist to elbow.

“It was like being in a cat fight, for real,” said Trimble, a 22-year-old Hollywood resident. “It was hairy. It was rough but it was fun.”

American Red Cross volunteers stationed at the end of the route applauded all the bands and performers that finished. But they saved the biggest cheers for the Holland High School Marching Dutchman Band of Holland, Mich., which high-stepped and strutted the 5 1/2 miles in wooden shoes.

The six pairs of socks that each member wore apparently provide only so much comfort.

Scott Dorn, 17, made it to the very end, then off came one wooden shoe as he limped back to the bus. “I feel pretty good,” he said, slowly walking in one shoe.

Not so his band-mate Kurt Overkamp. “I feel real beat, real tired and real sore,” the 17-year-old said.

“I know my feet are there,” 17-year-old Susie Sherman said. “They are there. I just can’t feel them.”

They all said they’d like to do it again--perhaps a year from now.

Times staff writers Roger Campbell, Sandra Crockett, Sam Enriquez, Steve Harvey and Carol McGraw contributed to this article.