Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's Bête Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com

Thursday, June 30, 2005


Last Sunday was the second parade in 2 week-ends for us. Saturday night a friend of a friend, a nice guy with whom we had socialized some, called and asked if we wanted to march with him in the Gay Pride Parade. Since this friendly acquaintance is Nick Licata, easily the most reliable progressive vote on Seattle’s City Council, and we didn’t have any plans, we said, Sure! The 2-year-old loves parades. My spouse and I do too. We took the next-door-neighbor’s kids, a 5-year-old and a one-and-a-half-year-old who are great friends of our kid’s. Their parents put the 5-year-old in rainbow pants, and she was a big hit. The one-and-a-half-year-old didn’t like the parade much, but he didn’t fuss. The parade was nice -- just walking and talking and wearing “Re-elect Nick Licata” t-shirts, which my spouse and I were happy to do.

This coming Saturday (the 3rd) at my parents’ place in Michigan, it’s the annual 4th of July Parade down their one-block lane, with friends and relatives and neighbors, organized by my sister and a childhood friend of hers, who grew up on the same lane and whose mom still lives there too. We fly in Saturday night. My childhood friend Jay and his son drive in Friday night (drive safely!) from NYC. Jay’s bringing his banjo for the parade -- I’m hoping we’ll sing “This Land Is Your Land,” and “Happy Birthday” to the country. I’d be up for singing the “Star-Spangled Banner” too, that weird, insecure, violent poem set to that stirring, slow-waltz tune.

I don’t think we’ll have any parades coming up soon after that. But as Fats Waller said, one never knows, do one?
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