One of the little towns nearby held its annual “grand parade” this weekend. You understand that “grand” is strictly in the eye of the Chamber of Commerce.
Of the 40 or so entries, at least 35 were tossing candy to the crowd. I know this is a longstanding tradition in some places; it was unheard of when and where I grew up. Now, the kids bring plastic bags and collect more sugar than some do on Halloween. And that’s their sole interest in the parade, far as I can tell.
Even when Ronald McDonald breezed by on a Segway (a sight never seen here before), the kids went glaze-eyed and ignored his attempts to greet them because neither he nor anybody in his follow-car were giving them anything.
This bothers me. Although I watched the kids scramble for the goodies, pointed out ones they’d missed, handed a few to the kidlet sitting next to me on the curb, and even stuck a dozen sweet bits into my own pocket, the whole business reminds me of Roman emperors tossing coins to the hoi palloi.
Call me stodgy and old fashioned, but I’d rather see parade marchers entertain us rather than teach us to scramble for largess.
One of the best floats was by an area Indian tribe: a giant faux canoe in which costumed tribespeople sat, drumming and chanting. I had hopes they wouldn’t do the candy thing, but they had children on board whose sole job was to toss confections.
A few marchers put a twist on things. The animal-rescue group gave out free samples and dog food and (my favorite) the town librarians walked by handing slender children’s books to the littlest members of the crowd.
A pleasant (if far from grand) diversion, but I wish the candy business would go away. Don’t think it should be banned or anything. I’d just rather a parade be entertaining in its own right.
The kids, no doubt, would disagree.
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I’m in the middle of a long prep period for a medical procedure. Nothing to worry about; just a routine test. But this test is universally dreaded and I’m doing my share of the dreading this week. (You who’ve had it will know exactly what I’m talking about.)
It involves days of dietary restrictions and changes of habit, followed by … worse.
Despite there being nothing to fear, I’ve been nervous in the run-up. Then the other day, I decided I’d approach the upcoming ordeal not as a medical procedure, but a spiritual one. It involves, after all, fasting and purging and suchlike things that people do on vision quests. I find I feel much more balanced and calm — maybe even slightly looking forward to it — when I approach it that way.
Now, if I can only come out of it wiser and more visionary.
Um. Unlikely.
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Summer seems to have returned (after a week or much-needed rains that spread through the parched west and did wonders for firefighters and residents of the dry zones). I’m enjoying it and hope you are, too.
But the mornings are chilly and the nights come earlier every day. I’m getting ready for some fall hunkering. I expect soon I’ll be doing a post or two on winter preps.
Praying.
If you need anything else, you know how to reach us.
Call me stodgy and old fashioned, but Iād rather see parade marchers entertain us rather than teach us to scramble for largess.
Back in my little-kid days I remember a parade where the local Guard unit had a float, with a Ma Deuce on it. They also had a big load of blanks. When they’d see kids they’d let loose with a burst, and we’d scramble for the hot .50 cal shells.
Later on I was a Boy Scout, so we’d more likely be in the parade than watching.
Good times.
Now, if I can only come out of it wiser and more visionary.
And healthy.
Looking forward to your winter preps, though we won’t need them for three months or so.
When I was a high school teacher, I once had a mother call me and ask if her son, whom I had right after lunch, was hyper. I agreed that he was. She told me that he would not be that way again as she had changed his lunch from just giving him money to buying a pre-paid lunch card. It appeared that he spent the money at an off-campus store buying candy and cupcakes. He would then eat a “lunch” consisting solely of high sugar foods. As she had expected, his behavior improved drastically, as did his grades. He also admitted that he felt better and didn’t get sleepy in mid-afternoon. Kids are internally programmed to want sweets. It’s up to adults to teach them good eating habits. The candy tossing is just helping to set up bad habits that may help lead to a lifetime of poor food choices.
Good luck on that test (if it’s what I’m thinking, my wife has it coming soon as well and is also not looking forward to it).
To the extent that parades are business operations (and they pretty much are — their purpose is to get people downtown for awhile, get them into the businesses there, and let the businesses and civic groups advertise), they’re going to go with what works. Movie theaters run films that put asses in seats. Parade promoters put on events that put people on the sidewalk, and one thing that gets people on the sidewalk is “free stuff.” The parents bring their kids, their kids get candy, and mom and dad stop in the downtown stores before or after.
“Vision quest”. What a great way to approach it. The next time I have that “procedure” I’ll try to remember this.
Gosh; since I practice homeopathic medicine and not allopathic…haven’t been near docs, hospitals, clinics or pharmacies since late 70s, I can’t imagine what ‘testing’ would entail. And I think, from the sound of it…I may be happy not to know! But, I do hope once ‘tested’ you study long and hard any recommended ‘doctor’ advice.
If it’s the test I think it is, there are over-the-counter options that work better than the gallon-o-crud that the doctor prescribes to drink. One big reason they prescribe the gallon is because it includes enough water to prevent dehydration, where with the OTC stuff people sometimes get dangerously dehydrated.
Depending on your doctor, they might be willing to bend on that, if you swear to drink a full gallon of water in addition to the meds.
Ellendra — Blessedly, my doc does not require the “gallon o’ crud.” He does require the OTC options to be mixed in Gatorade, a prospect that’s most disgusting. (A nurse told me I can substitute something else, though I’ve laid in the supply of Gatorade just in case.) And yes, lots and lots of other fluids including salty ones to avoid the dangers.
J Lyn Morris — I try not to practice any sort of medicine at all! I’ve avoided doctors for most of the last 25 years. But once in a while …
Laird — It really is amazing how the “vision quest” imagery has helped.
Tom — Good luck to your wife; I know she’s had more doc stuff in her life lately than anybody deserves. Maybe she can view the process as a vision quest as well.
mary in Texas — That’s some story. I’m glad the student himself realized how much the lower-sugar lunches helped him.
A.G. — It’s routine and harmless, really. Just a long, drawn-out nuisance. But prayers never hurt. So thank you.
While I’m a pessimist by nature, I also realize there’s a positive side to almost everything. Following the cleansing and the visual inspection, there will be a significant amount of air present (some mild inflation aids visibility, I’m told). This too, as they say, will pass, with a near miraculous result: for hours it won’t smell. The resultant bragging rights, if properly harped on to friends, can make all the previous in-house journeys and sleep disruptions seem worthwhile. The advantage of such a patently sensible change, even if temporary, is nothing to turn one’s nose up at.
Cody, Wyoming was big on parades. I always enjoyed them and I didn’t remember any candy-throwing, or not much anyway. What did piss me off was that usually the last thing in the parade was some gigantic (and obviously expensive) RV-type thing with antennas sprouting that was allegedly some sort of rescue facility, obviously some federal boondoggle (“fusion center” thing maybe?). It thuggishly contrasted with the home-made floats and women riding on horses and long horn steers, and I got the impression my fellow peons didn’t enjoy seeing where their tax dollars were going. I had a fantasy of following that boondoggle with a sign saying “We don’t need this crap” or some such, but never did it…
Good luck with that procedure. My wife went through something like that (if it’s what I imagine it is) but it’s not for me, no.
Um … erm … you know, we’re getting awfully close to talking about the, you know, actual procedure, and here I must draw the line. I am far too ladylike and dignified to sink to these depths.
Now Joel, if he were doing this, would no doubt give you all the gory details. And we’d all laugh and admire the heck out of him for his candor. Me, I was dubious about even mentioning it and now I’m having regrets. Not about the procedure, but about ever raising the subject.
No offense intended, Claire. Actually, I was relating my personal experience.
Shel — No offense taken! I’m just shy about such things. You OTOH, can fart and talk about farting all you want. š
It’s just fine that you’re not going the Katy Couric route here.
Claire, in general I try not to discuss such subjects in such frank terms, although I once was flattered to receive the following book as a gift from others at work http://www.amazon.com/Gas-We-Pass-Story-Farts/dp/0916291529/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1441740946&sr=1-1&keywords=the+gas+we+pass Never really did figure out why they gave it to me.