ON PARADE

One of the many nice things about our community is the annual 4th of July Parade.  It’s either timeless or caught in a time warp.  I swear we saw some of the same floats and bands 30 years ago, and the mayor’s car hasn’t changed in 55+years.

  I’m particularly fond of this ride, as it is the spitting image of my first car, a ‘56 Chrysler Newport:  the Great White Whale.  The mayor’s car actually is, I believe, a ‘55 Imperial, which got the tailfin treatment a year ahead of the Chrysler line.  Mine was a hardtop and painted the same white.  I drove that whale back and forth cross the country twice, from Indiana to Palo Alto, back in college days and almost entirely pre-interstates.  Used it to pick up Loni from her dorm the first night I met her.  Many good memories of that old tank.  Two-speed push-button automatic.  You could keep it in first up to about 50mph, and it ate gas like there’s no tomorrow.  At 30 cents a gallon, we didn’t care.  Ah, youth.  I digress.

Anyway, the parade had that an air of recycledness that competed with nostalgia.  That’s the peril of becoming an old fart.  But, not everyone has lived in the same place for 38 years, so the enthusiasm of the newer residents kept this year’s edition lively.  This is the 50th anniversary of the local high school, so it got a cake float.

Speaking of lively, one of the original teachers when the school opened in 1961 is still teaching there . . . at age 92!  Both our boyos had her for English, as did our niece, Noelle, back in the ‘90’s.  She was and is a tough old bird, but her students love(d) her.  I guess those are her great-grandchildren behind her.  Keep goin’ Mama G!

 

As always, the bands were the draw for me.  They ranged from the local, pick-ups, to the impeccable Marines, and the band in white which came all the way from Rockport, Illinois.  Hope they had a good time; they were a treat to hear.

We also had groups from Mexico that were very colorful, with some outfits that looked like escapees from the latest Transformers movie.

The tubas rocked, the police rolled (we’ve got money in the budget for those things??), the pipes wailed, and the underwear brigade did their close-formation drills.

Afterwards, we lugged our chairs home, and Loni set to work fixing a scrumptious 4th dinner that was as good as it looks.  Yum.

I’ll spare you a shot of the cherries-topped cheesecake.  Did I mention my cholesterol tests just came back with flying colors?  Later, Mom opted to stay home to watch the east coast fireworks on TV.  She claimed we walked her legs off at the parade.  Loni and I walked over to the high school and watched a very nice fireworks show to end a perfect 4th. 

I love living in a small town!