This morning, the whole family enjoyed our town’s Fourth of July parade, and oh how I wish I could share photos.
Shortly before the (actual) fourth of July, massive storms downed trees and closed streets all over our city. Also, July temperatures were in the 100s, so city government cancelled the festivities.
Last night there were fireworks, and today was my first Independence Day parade here. My mother-in-law, who has lived here more then 35 years, warned that the parade would be at least 90 minutes, and it did not disappoint.
I’m no stranger to big Fourth of July shindigs. For years, I lived in Upper Arlington, Ohio, where citizens on bullhorns sped down streets at the crack of dawn: “It’s the fourth of July! Wake up and celebrate! The parade is in X hours.” They drove in loops until the parade began.
And the parade was every citizen’s opportunity to show off their new stuff. New puppy? Bring him. New bike? Ride it in the parade. New baby? Sit with her in the shade (but for god’s sake, don’t nurse her!) UA hosts their high school reunions over the fourth of July, so class after class sits drunkenly on their floats, every five years.
We don’t embrace drunkenness here, but we do embrace community. Many many Republican candidates marched, as did a few democrats. Dozens of odd vehicles’s strange noises made 2010 cover her ears close to tears. Lots of people marched for Jesus or God or Falun Gong (though almost no one clapped for the lovely lotus ladies on that float.)
My girls received enough candy to replenish the treat bowl until Halloween (at least.) ACE hardware gave 1977 a yardstick, which was one of the highlights of my morning.
We hosted more than our fair share of veterans, roller derby enthusiasts, a shopping cart drill team, fat deputies, tiny cheerleaders with itty-bitty football players, and plenty of politicians eager to press the flesh. It was a strange day in Baconville.
And now I’m hiding in my house.
I blog rarely, because I'm busy writing books. When I do blog, I focus on writing, friendship, family, and books. Because my family's best nicknames are private, I use their birth years for shorthand: