It's a Parade!!

20 October, 13

Nothing says Small Town Pride like a parade. Everybody comes out for a parade. You're either watching it or in it.

I remember making floats with the Mighty Class of '88 for our Red Fox Homecoming Parades. Somebody's daddy always had a barn and trailer in a top-secret, undisclosed and well-camouflaged location. We would stuff little balls of paper into a chicken-wire rendition of some witty play on the opposing team's mascot. Then on the big day, we would all ride on the float, waving at the onlookers and throwing candy at the kids, just knowing we were gonna win the "Best Float" prize.

Fire trucks, police cars, ambulances, tractors and those crazy fez-hat dudes in their little go-carts were interspersed among the floats. The Mighty Foxes Red Regime marching band would lead the procession with all the appropriate pomp and circumstance.

Somewhere in the ranks would be the procession of beauty pageant winners:

Miss Hartsville
Little Miss Hartsville
Little Wee Miss Hartsville
Miss Tween Hartsville
Miss Young Adult Hartsville
Miss Cotton Gin
Miss Chitlin' Strut
Miss Puddin' Swamp (Shout out to Judith Elizabeth Belk!)

Those were the days.

Yesterday we had a big parade in La Alberca. I was excited to see how they did things. Boy was I surprised. Toto, this ain't Kansas anymore.

Parades in L.A. are all about some booty-shaking. I have several movie clips. The funniest part was seeing some of the participants, walking down the road, dancing along and toking a cigarette at the same time, as if smoking and dancing in a parade was the absolute most natural thing in the world to do.

Of course, many of the little girls were cute. Some of the ladies were a good bit past their prime, but I applauded their willingness to get out there in front of the world. A few of the guys bordered on the ridiculous, but hey, it's a parade. Strut it!

I think this is more like Carnival in Rio than the Hartsville Homecoming parades of my youth. Oh well, Bienvenidos a España!