Small Town Parade

I love small town parades.

Let me be precise.

I live in a small town.

Unlike some people who most likely do not live in small towns themselves, I do not romanticize the smallness of it.

I do even love my small town all that much. I do not love the one crowded grocery store, or the overwhelming likelihood of running into acquaintances while dashing in for a carton of milk. I do not love the lack of convenience, or lack of movie theater. The schools are not great. I like anonymity and diversity. Both of these are in short supply in most small northwestern towns.

Moving on.

There is something about our small town parade, perhaps like a thousand others nationwide (I can't be sure.) I look forward to it. Year after year. We walk down to the end of the crowded street (I do not love it enough to actually stand IN the crowd) and wait with anticipation for the police car to wail it's siren and begin.

In case you couldn't read the sign. I enlarged it for you. I am good like that.

It is much like Stephen King is narrating in my head. The way he writes each character, making them so full of humanness.

Best politics ever. Cleaning up after the horses.

Like the act of choosing to walk or ride down the middle of the street; not glamourous, just people really; simply to be seen, makes them so... human.

I want to grin, and wave and clap, "I see you! You are seen!" And I do.