The boys were happy as clams on the HUGE air matress. Lucy Jane slept on the window seat.
So now they are off to the parade. Kris and I are, as usual, skipping the parade and will make potato salad and cookies prior to joining the others at Emily's later. I tried the parade again last year. It was exactly as I remembered: hot and boring -- way too many commercial floats and politicians that I don't want to see. All I need is some bag pipes, a couple of good bands, some beautiful horses and some homemade floats with sweet girls and handsome youths from your ward that you might even know.
When we were young, the parade was much shorter and the floats were all made by wards and one or two creative businesses (such as Dixon Taylor Russell). They were created by poking paper napkins into chicken wire that had been molded over a frame on somebody's truck. Every kid had a new cap gun, and to a little kid like me, the sound of hundreds of caps going off at once was thrilling. Huck Snow, the Chief of Police, beloved of all Provo school children (he regularly visited the grade schools), was cheered with great vigor. He was generally the only important politician in the parade, and he was just there as a policeman.
I also remember with great fondness when the fireworks were a public spectacle and not reserved for Sean-Hanity-loving Utah-Valley Yuppies who can afford to take thier offspring to the Stadium of Fire. For a few years, the public fireworks were actually set to music that you could listen to on the radio. I am saddened that the celebration has been hijacked by money-grubbing capitalists. Oh Provo, oh Provo, where did you go wrong?
No worries. The best part is still being with the family and lighting sparklers on the front lawn.
Missing those who aren't here.
Dad, David, Dickie, whatever
2 comments:
amen brother. YOu should have heard the lady announcers we sat by at the parade. GBA dude!
I was just missing the parade today. But it's true, the further back I remember parades, the sweeter they are.
I HATED parades the year I drove the UVSC float, though. It was the front of a van chassis surrounded by at least 3 feet of foam. The 'designer' didn't think about any ventilation, so I had to keep the heat on full blast inside of my foam isolation cell in order to keep it from overheating.
Vision wasn't part of the design either and I only had one small hole in front of me (maybe 6 inches by a foot) and a walkie talkie to someone who was supposed to be my eyes. (Jamie was my last assistant and was extremely conscientious and informative - it was like I could see - but that's Jamie, and she only helped me the last time).
I had to drive the d**n thing to Lehi and Spanish Fork on I-15 (as well as down to the Provo parade). Why did a claustrophobe like me with serious control issues ever do something? Money and school pride, I suppose.
As I watched our fireworks off at a distance over our stadium, I wondered if Hannity, Toby Keith or even Goebels might be there. I also liked the fireworks better when they were for the people.
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