Fourth of July
After two full days in the nation's Capitol, SOS and I found ourselves in small town America to celebrate the Fourth of July.
So small, in fact, that we and our host family drove fifteen miles to find a small town big enough to have an Independence Day parade.
I've never been to a Fourth of July parade that I recall, but someone passed along a bit of insight they had overheard on the subject: if you are in or attend an Independence Day parade, you are probably a Republican.
I was wondering where everyone else was.
We saw classic cars, fire engines and police cars. Veterans of Foreign Wars marched or rode in the bed of a big truck. Red convertibles crawled by with the city mayor and other elected officers. And then the tractors!
I'm not quite sure why tractors are patriotic, but I've never seen so many tractors all in one place outside of a John Deere ad.
After the tractors proceeded what may have been every red automobile in town, representing various local businesses... and the local republican committee.
I kept waiting for the local Democrats to round the corner, but they never came. Depending on your own personal political persuasion, this is the perfect set up to insert a one liner to rib the others, but to keep this blog animosity-free, I will merely say that we also kept waiting for a marching band to provide rousing patriotic tunes, but it never came either.
Maybe the next parade I attend will be more noteworthy.
What is noteworthy about our small town independence day celebration is that our cook-out was rained out. For all of my Southern California readers, a cook-out is what we would call a backyard barbecue. Rain is that thing we sometimes get when water falls from the sky.
The rain may also have ended local fireworks displays, but I'm not sure. SOS and I celebrated true vacationing-with-a-baby style by going to bed before dark.
So small, in fact, that we and our host family drove fifteen miles to find a small town big enough to have an Independence Day parade.
I've never been to a Fourth of July parade that I recall, but someone passed along a bit of insight they had overheard on the subject: if you are in or attend an Independence Day parade, you are probably a Republican.
I was wondering where everyone else was.
We saw classic cars, fire engines and police cars. Veterans of Foreign Wars marched or rode in the bed of a big truck. Red convertibles crawled by with the city mayor and other elected officers. And then the tractors!
I'm not quite sure why tractors are patriotic, but I've never seen so many tractors all in one place outside of a John Deere ad.
I kept waiting for the local Democrats to round the corner, but they never came. Depending on your own personal political persuasion, this is the perfect set up to insert a one liner to rib the others, but to keep this blog animosity-free, I will merely say that we also kept waiting for a marching band to provide rousing patriotic tunes, but it never came either.
Maybe the next parade I attend will be more noteworthy.
What is noteworthy about our small town independence day celebration is that our cook-out was rained out. For all of my Southern California readers, a cook-out is what we would call a backyard barbecue. Rain is that thing we sometimes get when water falls from the sky.
The rain may also have ended local fireworks displays, but I'm not sure. SOS and I celebrated true vacationing-with-a-baby style by going to bed before dark.
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