Skip to main content

I love a parade

Henry and I fought our way through the rabid Hawkeye masses along the streets of downtown Iowa City last night to experience the spectacle that is the UI Homecoming Parade.

Frat boys dressed as SpongeBob. A pack of assorted-size dogs in sweaters walking alongside an "ark" float representing the local doggie daycare that was flooded this summer. Classic cars carrying University officials and, of course, the king and queen.

And let's not forget...the candy. Forget anything you ever imagined from your biggest haul on the best Halloween year. Henry now has a grocery sack filled to the brim with enough sweets to sugar-shock Willie-Freaking-Wonka.

My favorite moments of the evening involved the political marchers in the parade. The Obama folks, loud and proud and well supported from the parade route sidelines, chanted and tossed beads and buttons and passed out pamphlets to those interested in volunteering to accost others in the name of trying to save our country from the doom of "four more years of the same." Henry clapped and cheered and got himself a save-the-environment sticker from a passerby.

Then came the big van announcing the Johnson County Republicans. The woman behind us laughed and said, "Woo. Yay. All 12 of them." I was still chuckling when some guy walked up to Henry and slapped a big yellow sticker of one of the local GOP candidates on him. Dirty play, I say, since kids can't read and they love stickers. As soon as the guy moved on, I peeled it off of H's shirt and promised him I'd buy him a whole card of stickers if he'd please just not wear that one. He shrugged and we carried on.

I don't think he was permanently traumatized by the sticker incident. As we were walking back to the car at the end of the parade, out of the blue, Henry quietly started chanting.

I--O--W--A...Barack Obama All The Way! Hey hey hey hey...Barack Obama All The Way!

Comments

Mary said…
I got a particular kick out of the "radical cheerleaders" who were the parade entry just behind the Republicans. Their chant was "Hey hey, Hey Hey, Sarah Palin stay away!" or something to that effect. Coincidental parade placement or devious Homecoming committee plot?
3:49 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.
Post a Comment
Read more

So, I Changed My Mind

More than four years ago, the blog and I parted ways. I needed a change. A whole lot happened in my world since then. I switched jobs a couple times. My kid went from an elementary school tween to a teenage high schooler. We built a new house and moved. Both my parents and my sister have passed. The world around me changed as well. Mass shootings, racism, the #metoo movement, a misogynistic bigoted narcissist in the White House ... go ahead, add to the list. Toss your woes into this dumpster fire we call 2019.  I appreciate my previous sentiment, that I was no longer wandering. But let's be honest, we're all trying to find our way through this mess. I decided to reboot the blog to give myself a creative outlet, a way to sort through the confusion and frustration and attempt to make sense of it all. I have a voice, and I'm not keen to silence it anymore. Guess what? I'm back, bitches.
Post a Comment
Read more

In memoriam...

I remember the first time I heard the name "Les Anderson." A bunch of Wichita State University communication majors were sitting around on campus, talking about classes they planned to take. Several people warned me: watch out for Les Anderson. He was tough. He had a murderous grading scale. It was nearly impossible to get an A. They weren't kidding. But he wasn't tough just to be a tyrant. From his teaching sprang a fleet of incredible, successful journalists, writers, editors, broadcasters, public relations experts, advertisers, non-profit professionals...I could go on and on. Most importantly, he created a legion of people who wanted to make a difference in the world. The greatest gift Les gave to them all? He believed in them, cared about them for their own personal stories as well as the stories they told for class assignments or in the pages of his hometown newspaper. Les was my teacher. My boss. My mentor. My conscience. My champion. My friend. When I started c...
5 comments
Read more