Doo-Dah Was Flat Financially : Finances: Founder says revamped parade drew small crowds and no profits. ‘I gotta get a job,’ he says as he considers fate of the event.

This year’s revamped Doo Dah Parade was a financial bust--with skimpy crowds, few entries and no profit--and, now, after 10 years as the event’s full-time czar, founder Peter Apanel says he is forced to look for more bankable employment.

“Let me tell you what my main priority is,” Apanel said, a week after his Nov. 27 parade drew a disappointing 2,500 spectators and barely broke even. “I gotta get a job. . . . I’m not broke, but I couldn’t last a year with what I got. I worked on (the parade) all year long for zero.”

By the end of January, Apanel, who started the annual spoof of the Rose Parade in 1978, will decide Doo Dah’s future--perhaps revising the event, switching back to the old format or calling it quits.

The old parade was a freewheeling, open affair with more than 40,000 spectators lining the streets of Old Pasadena. This year, for the first time, the parade charged admission and switched to a small, festival-style event with a mini-procession around Pasadena City Hall Plaza. Only 30 entries showed up, contrasted with 100 groups in past years.

“To be real honest, it was just OK,” said Apanel, 42, a South Pasadena resident. “There’s no point in trying to hype it to be more than it was.”

Apanel sold about 1,500 tickets--$12,150 worth--and distributed 1,000 tickets to friends, businesses and nonprofit groups. He had hoped to sell 5,000 tickets, at $7 each in advance and $10 at the door.

Doo Dah started out as a whim; using volunteers, Apanel ran the parade as a hobby. But in recent years, as it gained popularity, Apanel relied on the revenue for his living, along with an occasional part-time job. Still, Doo Dah averaged less than $20,000 profit each year, he said, scarcely enough to make ends meet.

This year, Apanel decided to rethink the format, partly with an eye toward profits. He also wanted to control the growing number of unruly spectators, some of whom hurled wadded-up, stale tortillas and spit at the crowd. Parade veterans, such as the Synchronized Briefcase Drill Team, which dropped out temporarily, said the event had gotten out of hand.

Another financial blow stemmed from Apanel’s agreement with KCOP-TV, which used to pay an undisclosed fee to broadcast the parade, to drop live coverage. Apanel worried that the coverage would be disruptive in a smaller venue while KCOP wanted the event moved from Saturday to Sunday, and to include more entries, according to Rick Feldman, the station’s general manager.

Apanel bristles at critics who accused him of compromising the parade in a bid to fatten his wallet.

“Do people think I’m riding around in a ’62 (Ford) Galaxy because I like it?” he asked.