The dogs, the fashionistas, and the funeral band

Yesterday I went over to the Community Center early (7 AM) to help set up for our parade. Already it was a scene of complete chaos! The folks in charge had already pulled a couple of all-nighters and were relying on a constant stream of coffee and donuts to keep moving. Bless their wired and stressed-out hearts.

This gentleman belonged to our town’s most prestigious citizen. She was there for the flag raising as I suppose she is every year.

While a group of elderly vets struggled to raise the flag, I watched a girl in a tree next to the flag pole.

“Look at me person!” she said. And then she disappeared. Or did she?

Can you see her? She’s almost as high as the top of the flag post (upper right).

If I zoom in you can see her now. Wood Nymph! That’s what she was. Once up there, she would not come down. Unlike the flag. The vets got it up once, poised for photos and then wandered off in search of the pancake breakfast provided by the Cub Scouts. Next thing we knew, it crashed to the ground. Luckily the Search and Rescue team had a booth nearby.

Here are some other snaps of the actual parade.

A group called The “Funeral Band,” I think. It was hard to hear the announcements over the din of the crowd. Plus, the announcer himself must have been 200 years old.

Also part of the Funeral Band.

This young lady knew how to dress for the occasion.

As does she!

Hopefully this was not the Funeral Band!

“Okay. I’ll pose. But only because this is so boring.”

Poor old Lady Liberty teetering on stilts. Bless her heart. Bless all our hearts.

Dog Daze: Repost from 2013

My very first Fourth of July post . . .

On the Fourth of July we always walk downtown for the parade with our neighbors and their dog.  Our neighbors have the coolest dog in the world.  If he were a human he would be Cary Grant – suave and sexy but with a playful side.  

With his golden, slightly curly (and very soft!) fur, he charms all the lady dogs and the young studs too but steers clear of German Shepherds.

Be careful confronting a German Shepherd; he could be either a Jimmy Stewart or a Mike Tyson.

Dogs
An odd couple waiting for the parade

Like Cary Grant, our neighbor’s dog doesn’t approve of exercising in the heat and often wrapped his silky body at my feet in the shade.

Before they fell in love with Cary Grant the neighbors had a black dog, not sure what breed, who they called Toby.  One day Toby came up for a visit.  When I said “Hi Toby!”  he glared at me.  “My name is Jack,” he said.  Well, not in so many words but with that look dogs’ll give you when they think you’re a nitwit. Toby’s human equivalent would have been Humphrey Bogart, mysterious but trustworthy, a hopeless romantic with a cynical shell.


“Must I really prance around in this get-up?”

At the time the neighbors had Toby/Jack I had a dog named Berna, short for Bernadette.  She was a shelty-beagle mix I found on the bottom of a heap of pups at the pound.  Her siblings had more energy and looked much more eager to be rescued but I’ve always cheered the underdog and in this case, the bottom of the heap dog.  She puked and pooped all the way home.  She always stank.  She couldn’t be car trained or trained at all for that matter.  She’d run onto freeways, get her head stuck in Costco sized mayonnaise jars and dig up every living thing I tried to plant in the back yard.  But her crowning achievement was a spot on a Channel 7 news story  exposing the water wasters of the East Bay (this is a long story which illustrates the depths of depravity a film crew will go to get a  scoop). Guard dog, she was not.  Bay at the moon dog, she was.  Escape artist, par excellence.  When I put my house on the market the first agent scowled “get rid of the dog.  You’ll never sell this house with her in it.”  I got rid of the agent.

Anyway – enough about dogs. When I started blogging I resolved to leave politics, grandchildren and dogs off my list of subjects and here I’ve gone and broken my vows. Nevermore, I swear.

DixieDevils
Can’t have a parade without a jazz band on a flat–bed truck!

The next best thing about the Fourth is how it brings out the rebel in all of us.  Who doesn’t love marching down Main Street in a happy riot of fellow citizens, for a few hours, owning the streets.  What a sense of freedom it is.

Girl in hat watching parade.

The Girl with the Flag in her Hair #July2014

Hats
Family waiting for the parade.

I live in a town only large enough to support one grocery store but we do have a  library and a community center and on the Fourth of July everyone comes out to play.  In the past our parades have consisted primarily of the boy scouts and brownies, swim and football teams, the city council and anyone running for office, every classic car in town, kids on tricycles, local war heroes, high school marching bands and lots of dogs, hot and otherwise.

But things are a-changing…

Seuss
Cast from Seussical

This year we had the characters from the musical Seussical grooving in brightly colored costumes to raga tunes.

Horse

And a horse drawn carriage…

I think they were sponsored by one of the banks and not Coors but just seeing them made me crave a beer.

BeardedGuy
Member of the cast of Dracul

The tiny theatrical group in town, which puts on mostly murder mysteries in an outdoor theater also marched – in costume, of course.

Not new, but always entertaining, was the juggler who rode a unicycle in the parade and then entertained the children at the local park while their parents drank beer and listened to a jazz band.

Having as much fun as the kids he's entertaining!
The Juggler

He appeared to be having as much fun as the kids.

StiltLady

New, and probably the most unusual of the participants, was the Stilt Lady, dancing a Brazilian rumba.  I’m afraid of heights so she terrified me.

When I first moved to this area over twenty years ago there weren’t that many “people of color” in the parade, however, as my neighbor noted, that is changing as is the town. It’s a good thing to see.

IrishGirl
Girl with the Flag in her braid and hubby

On the way home Hubby and I stopped at the local Mexican restaurant for margaritas and to watch the World Cup.  Our waitress had an American flag sticking out of her French braid and spoke with a such a strong accent naturally we had to start up a conversation with her.  It happened to be her very first Fourth of July as an American citizen, having migrated from Northern Ireland.  Now, I don’t like what’s happening in this country – all the hatred and division.  Some days I’m so fearful of the future I’m tempted to migrate elsewhere but she had such a glow about her that I decided not to ruin the day with politics.  Even my hubby held his tongue.  It was, after all, the Fourth.

 

4th of July Rehash

For the next few days I’ll be driving hither and thither and won’t have much time to blog so I’m going to leave you with links to Fourth of July posts from the last few years.

July 2013, Dog Daze

Girl in hat watching parade.

Girl in hat watching parade.

Seuss

Performers from Seussical

July 2014, The Girl with the Flag in her hair

Last year for some reason I did not write a Fourth of July  post.  So here are some random pictures from the 2015 parade:

Ladies

The Lafayette Fire District can never be accused of age discrimination!

I like to joke that there are more people in the parade than there are in the town.  Often we have no idea why people are marching or who they represent. I suppose it doesn’t really matter!

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Anyway, that’s Fourth of July in small town America!  Happy Fourth to all my American buddies and Happy Monday to everyone else!

 

 

The Girl with the Flag in her Hair

Hats
Family waiting for the parade.

I live in a town only large enough to support one grocery store but we do have a  library and a community center and on the Fourth of July everyone comes out to play.  In the past our parades have consisted primarily of the boy scouts and brownies, swim and football teams, the city council and anyone running for office, every classic car in town, kids on tricycles, local war heroes, high school marching bands and lots of dogs, hot and otherwise.

But things are a-changing…

Seuss
Cast from Seussical

This year we had the characters from the musical Seussical grooving in brightly colored costumes to raga tunes.

Horse

And a horse drawn carriage…

I think they were sponsored by one of the banks and not Coors but just seeing them made me crave a beer.

BeardedGuy
Member of the cast of Dracul

The tiny theatrical group in town, which puts on mostly murder mysteries in an outdoor theater also marched – in costume, of course.

Not new, but always entertaining, was the juggler who rode a unicycle in the parade and then entertained the children at the local park while their parents drank beer and listened to a jazz band.

Having as much fun as the kids he's entertaining!
The Juggler

He appeared to be having as much fun as the kids.

StiltLady

New, and probably the most unusual of the participants, was the Stilt Lady, dancing a Brazilian rumba.  I’m afraid of heights so she terrified me.

When I first moved to this area over twenty years ago there weren’t that many “people of color” in the parade, however, as my neighbor noted, that is changing as is the town. It’s a good thing to see.

IrishGirl
Girl with the Flag in her braid and hubby

On the way home Hubby and I stopped at the local Mexican restaurant for margaritas and to watch the World Cup.  Our waitress had an American flag sticking out of her French braid and spoke with a such a strong accent naturally we had to start up a conversation with her.  It happened to be her very first Fourth of July as an American citizen, having migrated from Northern Ireland.  Now, I don’t like what’s happening in this country – all the hatred and division.  Some days I’m so fearful of the future I’m tempted to migrate elsewhere but she had such a glow about her that I decided not to ruin the day with politics.  Even my hubby held his tongue.  It was, after all, the Fourth.

 

Dog Daze

My very first Fourth of July post from 2013

On the Fourth of July we always walk downtown for the parade with our neighbors and their dog.  Our neighbors have the coolest dog in the world.  If he were a human he would be Cary Grant – suave and sexy but with a playful side.  

With his golden, slightly curly (and very soft!) fur, he charms all the lady dogs and the young studs too but steers clear of German Shepherds.

Be careful confronting a German Shepherd; he could be either a Jimmy Stewart or a Mike Tyson.

Dogs
An odd couple waiting for the parade

Like Cary Grant, our neighbor’s dog doesn’t approve of exercising in the heat and often wrapped his silky body at my feet in the shade.

Before they fell in love with Cary Grant the neighbors had a black dog, not sure what breed, who they called Toby.  One day Toby came up for a visit.  When I said “Hi Toby!”  he glared at me.  “My name is Jack,” he said.  Well, not in so many words but with that look dogs’ll give you when they think you’re a nitwit. Toby’s human equivalent would have been Humphrey Bogart, mysterious but trustworthy, a hopeless romantic with a cynical shell.

At the time the neighbors had Toby/Jack I had a dog named Berna, short for Bernadette.  She was a shelty-beagle mix I found on the bottom of a heap of pups at the pound.  Her siblings had more energy and looked much more eager to be rescued but I’ve always cheered the underdog and in this case, the bottom of the heap dog.  She puked and pooped all the way home.  She always stank.  She couldn’t be car trained or trained at all for that matter.  She’d run onto freeways, get her head stuck in Costco sized mayonnaise jars and dig up every living thing I tried to plant in the back yard.  But her crowning achievement was a spot on a Channel 7 news story  exposing the water wasters of the East Bay (this is a long story which illustrates the depths of depravity a film crew will go to get a  scoop). Guard dog, she was not.  Bay at the moon dog, she was.  Escape artist, par excellence.  When I put my house on the market the first agent scowled “get rid of the dog.  You’ll never sell this house with her in it.”  I got rid of the agent.

Anyway – enough about dogs. When I started blogging I resolved to leave politics, grandchildren and dogs off my list of subjects and here I’ve gone and broken my vows. Nevermore, I swear.

DixieDevils
Can’t have a parade without a jazz band on a flat–bed truck!

The next best thing about the Fourth is how it brings out the rebel in all of us.  Who doesn’t love marching down Main Street in a happy riot of fellow citizens, for a few hours, owning the streets.  What a sense of freedom it is.

Girl in hat watching parade.