(Republished from July 2012)
It’s been a really long time, I know. (Update: Yeah, actually like six years.)
But, you know what makes me write like a worm crawled into my underwear? Getting a text message from a friend that says “Why are there no new posts on your blog?!?!”
So thank you, friend, for being my worm.
However, in order to come up with anything somewhat entertaining (may as well say it is because you don’t get any money back here) I have to backtrack to the 4th of the July.
So, it was the summer of 2012 …
I don’t usually do much for the 4th of July except watch fireworks, and for the most part, I wish I didn’t have to do that either. In fact, add fireworks to the list of things I only keep doing because I have a kid – which is pretty much everything except sleeping.
Also for some strange reason, fireworks look similar every year and have every year of my 30 something years of watching them. I cannot think of any show that was more memorable or any different than the ones on television.
Sort of like Mount Rushmore. That’s exactly what my brother looked at me and said during one of our family trips as children. “What’s the big deal. It looks exactly like it does on TV.”
This year though, I got fancy and went to a parade on the fourth with my sister and her boys. Unfortunately, it was during a record breaking heat wave that resulted in hundreds of people passing out on the curb with their faces sucked dead up to their skulls.
It was so hot …
I made a list of people who probably died in the parade after I left:
One on each side of the street. If I ever give anyone any advice for surviving desert conditions it would be, DO NOT WEAR BLACK RUBBER SUITS IN THE HEAT. Pretty sure two Batmans died and it wasn’t worth it. The parade had no superhero batman theme, so they dressed up like that and died for no reason.
Plus, my nephew totally yelled that dude wasn’t the real Batman.
An Entire Band
I saw at least four large groups of people wearing way too many clothes, marching in the parade. I’m not sure but wool/polyester uniforms + blowing or yelling in something + 400 degrees hot = well, it was nice knowing you but if you’re going to do that, we’re going to let your little brother sit in your spot at the table from now on.
A Bingo Truck Full Of Seniors
I am pretty sure if you are over 75, it isn’t healthy to be AT the parade when it is over 100 degrees out, let alone IN the parade, squished together with an entire Bingo senior citizen league. That truck full of Bingo players was toast. Old people toast.
At Least 3 Parade Horses
I know I said people, but nowadays we count horses too, and I saw a parade horse in the street with his hooves in the air. When I walked up to him to make sure he was okay, he said, “Gimme those damn freezies, biznatch and find me a super soaker.” So yeah, those parade horses definitely count.
We only survived because about a third of the way through the parade, the kids begged to go home. They didn’t even want any more candy. And who can blame them, it was hot and half-dead people were winging tootsie rolls and frisbees at their heads.
Instead, we all went to Culver’s and had ice cream and lived happily ever after. And, I think it all taught the kids a very valuable lesson:
You don’t win, if you die in the parade.
And also, yay ice cream.