Parents took me to Macy parade when I was little but I remember nothing.
Later, older, on my own, a bunch of us would meet at 86th and 5th on St. Patrick's Day and work our way eastward - first stop, the Jaeger House. Starting around noon, we were all spiffy in our three piece suits and almost white trenchcoats.
Several hours later, having made it to First Avenue, those of us still standing would hop on the Pelham Bay-Lexington Uptown to our neighborhood pub where the Irish owner Tom Kenny would be laying out plates of corned beef and cabbage on the bar. "Good luck, lads", he would say.
God knows it was a drunken, rowdy time with the REAL Irish in Ireland appalled at how badly their Irish cousins in the US celebrated the day. Over there, it was a Holy Day of Obligation.