Ben marched with his school band and his quads in the local Christmas parade yesterday evening. I didn't get a picture at the parade, but here he is the morning after. If you ever want to experience small town life in the Ozarks, come to our Christmas parade. Throngs line the 1.6 mile length of the parade -- most of the town turns out. I really don't quite understand why it is such a big deal, but I tried to get in the spirit of the season. Bundled up in long johns, scarf, gloves, boots and a few other typical items of clothing, I watched from the parade's end at the town square. Leading the parade was this year's marshall riding in a 1956 Lincoln. Chlorine Hedgepeth (I don't make this stuff up), the octogenarian local bank president/owner/founder who still goes to work every day, had the honor this year. She was followed by a bevy of beauties from each year's class at the high school, who shivered and waved from the back of various convertibles. Then all the local muscle cars, Mustangs, and classic cars drove by, followed by the two school marching bands. Several churches had "floats" (trailers with hay and people in robes) depicting of the true meaning of Christmas and several merchants depicted the other true meaning of Christmas. All the participants hurled wrapped hard candies at the crowd and failed to put out anyone's eye, but did startle and bruise this observer. Ah, great fun.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Marching to a Merry Christmas
Ben marched with his school band and his quads in the local Christmas parade yesterday evening. I didn't get a picture at the parade, but here he is the morning after. If you ever want to experience small town life in the Ozarks, come to our Christmas parade. Throngs line the 1.6 mile length of the parade -- most of the town turns out. I really don't quite understand why it is such a big deal, but I tried to get in the spirit of the season. Bundled up in long johns, scarf, gloves, boots and a few other typical items of clothing, I watched from the parade's end at the town square. Leading the parade was this year's marshall riding in a 1956 Lincoln. Chlorine Hedgepeth (I don't make this stuff up), the octogenarian local bank president/owner/founder who still goes to work every day, had the honor this year. She was followed by a bevy of beauties from each year's class at the high school, who shivered and waved from the back of various convertibles. Then all the local muscle cars, Mustangs, and classic cars drove by, followed by the two school marching bands. Several churches had "floats" (trailers with hay and people in robes) depicting of the true meaning of Christmas and several merchants depicted the other true meaning of Christmas. All the participants hurled wrapped hard candies at the crowd and failed to put out anyone's eye, but did startle and bruise this observer. Ah, great fun.
I retired as a technical writer years ago. Since then I've spent my time reading, writing, rabble-rousing and raising my two orphaned grandsons. Because they are now grown,I still spend time reading, writing, quilting, and in advocacy for many causes. Don't get me started on politics. My day-to-day life is fairly quiet, but my fantasy life is soaring, and I take mental excursions almost as good as the real thing.
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