E. Boyer
Our parade...Pipsy Tipsy!
What a crowd! Chalk it up to good ‘ole Piedmont patriotism and the green
light to start drinking before noon! What’s the point of independence if not
the freedom to get shnockered on your front porch mid-morning? What the heck, count me in! I happily take my
spot at curbside every year amidst the throng on Highland Avenue.
Ever the observer, I had a few thoughts:
Is it me or have we been short on floats the past few years?
Maybe I’m remembering it wrong or getting it mixed-up with parades from my
childhood, but it seems like we used to have more floats. I know we have flatbeds
with dancing kids atop and the occasional costumed parent, but I’m referring to
the papier-mache variety that takes 6 months to construct. Is the coveted
Highland Cup no longer enough to summon the fighting clansman spirit? Have we
lost the edge that drove us to our garages, attics and craft stores in search
of bits of inspiration that would crush the competing neighbor floats? Crepe paper,
plywood, bailing twine, chicken wire, all to achieve just the right finishing
touches to our float entries (Fourth of July and Homecoming, for that matter.) I would have thought that the
younger crowd, now with children of their own, would take the reins; that seems
to be when this sort of inspiration is ignited. Not a criticism, just a
curiosity for the future of things. I
think, perhaps the young folks, who are
typically the life-blood of such traditions aren’t in town for the Fourth as
often as they once were. Summering. Travelling. Camps. Today’s exhausted mother
of three will only once be convinced to stay in town for the parade if other
destinations beckon. After that and it’s
“Sorry, the kids are going to camp and I’m
going to the lake for a week of peace and quiet. There’s a dock and a stack of magazines
and I don’t intend to miss either for 45 minutes of dogs and cars.” Ouch! O.k., we get it; a hodge-podge of cars
(although this year they really were quite good!) lots of dogs in spangled
ribbon and a truly strange gaggle of men wearing inner tubes isn’t quite the
lure one needs to stay in town.
Allow an old gal a few suggestions, keeping in mind that I
just returned from said parade and I write from my front porch where, indeed I
sit with a Bloody Mary into which I put 6 pieces of bacon, thus blaming the
following on sodium…
Throw the damned candy! Listen carefully; there is but one
reason that a child between the ages of 3 and 13 is interested in going to a
parade. Candy. In fact, the only reason
kids this age get out of bed on any
morning is the omnipresent hope that at some point during the day the
opportunity for candy might present itself.
I know; your kid “doesn’t really
like candy.” Yes, they do and it’s
the only reason they want to go to the parade. Tossing peppermints or Tootsie
Rolls out of a car during a parade is like giving out toothbrushes on
Halloween. It’s bunk. Full-size Kit Kats, folks! Rule of thumb; if it doesn’t leave a little
bruise when it bonks them on the forehead, it wasn’t big enough. The kids will
happily endure a little roughing-up as a means to an end. They’re kids and we’re talkin’ candy. They
understand the risks and it’s a mission they’re willing to accept.
Something to further ruffle the anti-candy-throwing feathers:
SuperSoakers. Remember those? The giant, high-powered water gun with a 40-foot
stream! Why not take the take the sugar component to the next level?
You want a happy kid, blast ‘em in the kisser with an Icee-filled SuperSoaker…I
recommend cherry cola. Picture it; kids standing wide-mouthed like baby birds waiting
for the mayor or some other local such-and-such to take aim and fire. Shrieks of excitement all around! It would surpass
their wildest dreams and they would look upon being the “target” of such cold, sugary
goodness as the single most important
moment in their childhood. Yes, it’ll be messy; that’s why God created soap. The
Icee SuperSoaker. 100%, yes, yes, yes.
Cotton Candy. Forget the paper cone and let’s get a cotton candy
dunk tank; arms and legs straight into the spinner. Voila! Cotton candy kid!
It will instantly blow their little minds and they’ll be occupied for hours eating
the sugary web off of their own limbs.
C’mon, folks, get the little tykes off the devices and send them for a
full-body plunge into the cotton candy twirl-a-whirl! They’ll be revved-up like
Howler monkeys from all the sugar, but they’ll run it off afterwards at the
block party and then around 7:30 they’ll crash and burn and sleep like little
angels until morning. A win-win! Now,
where’s the harm in that?
The giant Snail was an attention-grabber, no question. Why? Fire. We
see fire and it sparks our primal flame. We’re drawn to it’s hypnotic powers.
Fire invokes our inferno-powered superego.
We imagine ourselves flying in on the backs of fire-breathing dragons on
a mission of vengeance and retribution.
Kids imagine a similar scenario, but with unicorns, minions and
hamsters....all fire-breathing. Yes,
indeed, fire stirs the soul and gives an event such as a parade a certain flare
that can’t be underestimated. As this year’s fire-breathing snail began it’s
journey down Highland I had a moment of concern that it’s flames might set
ablaze the arc of balloons overhead and wouldn’t that have been a spectacle? But, I quickly reminded myself that Piedmont
prides itself on a phenomenal fire department and they’d have us covered in the
event of any such mishap. And by the way, given that papier-mache might make a
comeback it’s not unreasonable to imagine that mishaps could occur. Still, going forward I say that the float with
the biggest fire component is the clear winner!
That’s it. That’s all
I have in the way of suggestions for the parade. Yes, this is precisely why they won’t let me
sit on the parade committee.
Happy summer! Next
stop, 7-Eleven for an Icee, which could be a disaster after all that bacon.
