It's a New Year

Forty-eight posts ago, I wrote about the Rose Bowl and all things associated. Today, at long last, we attended the Rose Parade. And, well, like much of our move to  California, it wasn't at all what I expected. Super cool and fun -- just not what I expected.

About 36 hours ago, our city turned into a campground. Literally. Hundreds of RVs, folding chairs, portable BBQs, air mattresses, Uno decks, and Kindles showed up on every available square inch of Colorado Avenue, the main parade route.  Yesterday, my cute husband, with utter excitement all over his face, asked, "Can we go look at the campers on Colorado?" 

I honestly thought the only way to see the parade was to log onto Sharp Seating and give up all my credit card information. In fact, when the grandstands went up about a month ago, I was confused as to why they stopped about ten feet away from the curb. I thought, "Oh, they must leave the sidewalk clear until the night before." Uh, no. Thousands and thousands of people cram between the bottom of the stands and the "blue courtesy line," a boundary painted a good five feet into the street.

I was also confused as to why heavy ply-wood and temporary chainlink fences appeared in front of all the stores and restaurants on Colorado. Today, I got it. Camping is kind of a mess. 

The parade itself was pretty much awesome. Right at the beginning, a B-2 bomber made a fly-over of the route, followed by a blimp and lots of Happy New Year sky writing. Kenny G stood on the very first float and gave us a very fine soprano saxophone solo. 

The floats were gorgeous. My husband was hilarious. At parades, he likes to yell out each band director's name, super enthusiastically, and then wave like they are long lost cousins. It works. The band director waves back, equally enthusiastically. When the mayor went by, Matt yelled, "Hello! Please fix my street!" The crowd loved him almost as much as I do. (But perhaps, not the mayor.)

I've always thought of the Rose Parade as classy. No beads, candy, or TP thrown to the crowd at this parade, no sir. Just millions and millions of roses. But now that I've been? Er, no.  I still smell like grilled sausages the lady at the makeshift hibachi next to us sold. She spent two hours yelling, "Hottah, hottah!"When Matt asked her how much, she looked him up and down, thought a moment, and then said, "Four dollah." There were other vendors selling cotton candy, bubble guns, seat cushions, and programs. And the trash in the streets afterwards was impressive, even by L.A. standards. 

My favorite was the marching bands. Gosh, those girls from Japan could dance! And the Wisconsin Badgers brass section ran straight into the stands, instruments aloft, grinning like the silly badgers they are. The best was the Lubbock Texas All City Marching Band. What did they play? "Deep in the Heart of Texas."And we sang as loud as we could.

We love us a parade, and the Rose Parade is about as Mac Daddy as it gets.