Does the Hollywood Christmas Parade Try to Suck?

Before everyone gets their panties in a bunch, let's make one thing perfectly clear, LAist LOVES Hollywood. We love the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce's bizarre choices for stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. We love the seediness of Hollywood Blvd. Hell we even love the the monstrosity that is the world's most fucked up strip mall known as Hollywood & Highland.

We love these things because they represent the half-shitty, half-shiny semi-glamorous paradox that is modern day Tinsel Town.

With that said, someone needs to do some plastic surgery on the Hollywood Christmas Parade because after 75 years it's more than showing its age.

There used to be a time when it was classy and Bob Hope would glide down Hollywood Blvd as Santa. There used to be a time when actual stars used to wave from convertibles, not the cast of the latest dreck from some show off the CW.

Watching it from the street is an invitation to get pick pocketed and watching it from tv has turned into a drinking game called "do a shot when the no-name hosts say something to the no-name celebs in the cars and the faux-celebs can't hear them."

The only saving grace of the tv broadcast was the drum line challenge when two local high school marching bands had their percussion sections square off in front of Kodak Theatre for four minutes of half-assed entertainment. It was good because it gave hope that next year someone could round up two bands who can actually play their instruments.

Part of the charm of the modern-day Hollywood Christmas Parade is that it gives one the feeling of an actual hometown holiday parade, but let us remind you of this Hollywood: whatever embarrassed burg that Michael Bolton comes from probably doesn't invite him to any of their fucked up parades, and Hollywood shouldn't be any different.

George Lopez as the Grand Marshall? George Lopez should be the Grand Marshall of the Doo Dah Parade once Dr. Demento enters the old folks home and nothing more.

Until then Hollywood needs to decide if it's ready to truly be something more than an acid trip for the homeless and quit fucking around with what once was, and could be, a production worthy of Hollywood Blvd. Meanwhile you know you have a stinker when the biggest cheer of the night comes when Hulk Hogan puts his hand to his ear.

We've seen better Hollywood parades exiting Paris Hilton's suite at the Standard.

AP photo