The participants stacked up in front of the school, all fidgeting with their get-ups and contraptions, all anticipating the slow run through town. The adult spectators were mostly comfortable in their folding lawn chairs, many trying to get as close as possible but others seeking refuge in the shade. The kids, of all ages, had it figured out and were expending considerable energy running and screaming knowing what I forgot to remember, this is going to be a candy haul. Youthful hungry hands flew in the air as others rolled on the grassy lawns preparing their young bodies to lunge for the thrown morsels. It seemed even the toddlers were on to it, as if it was in the air.
Strange as it may seem, we found ourselves, that would be all four of us, all mature, food conscious adults holding out our hands to signal for the candy toss. I tried to hold back but the thought of a toffee was just too great and while I did not abscond any sugary sweets form some hapless kid, I had my wife hustle out and snag a couple of favorites. That got a look of disgust, but I did score the swag----and I was not the lone adult as Rick and Maureen couldn‘t hold back.
The military carried the flag much as they did when I was a kid back during the Eisenhower administration. They didn’t have the combat outfits but still were crisp and dignified. Oddly, they seemed to have the old M1s brought back from the big war and no black guns with banana clips.
I couldn’t help but notice the cars, or I might say remnants of cars, that were destined for the demolition derby. A favorite was the two rat rods that looked right out of Road Warrior. As a motor head, it was not hard to be impressed by how well the engines ran. The exhaust pipes penetrated upward above the engine emitting a sound both mean and hungry but exciting to my personal ear. That was enough to scare me into Thunder Dome right there. Then there was the pink dented unit piloted by a attractive young lady who I am sure was hell bent on smashing the grinning guys in the other wrecks. Ya, pink. The news on the street the next day was she didn’t last long. Next year.
Of course, the Wisconsin Marching Band was huge for me but I did miss the backwards hats they used to wear after a football win. They high stepped in the hot sun as I sipped a nice iced tea. Oh, how I remember following the victorious band as they headed down State Street in Madison all to the cheering of a rowdy crowd of glass raising students. On Wisconsin, oh ya.
A number of shiny new tractors went by demonstrating where agriculture had moved while I was sleeping. My wife mentioned in amazement that one of the units was bigger than our first home after which I remarked, and cost about 5 times a much. I found myself wanting to see a nice old International M or maybe a pre-war John Deere with its two cylinders popping in rhythm. I know I am a nostalgic old coot but I could understand those. The new ones are more like space ships all digitized and GPSed, tools out of Star Wars. All they needed was some furry creature at the wheel howling at the moon.
There were plenty of aspiring policemen all wanting to be the high sheriff. My favorite was the individual who brought along a flashy red Corvette with a pleasant collection of beauty queens. Another had a meandering marching collection of waving supporters. We scored two magnetic Packers/Badgers schedules for the refrigerators from one sincere candidate. Gotta be some votes there.
The fire truck collection made me secure as it appeared that just the magnitude of the many vehicles could scare the dickens out of any fire. I am not sure they rolled the sirens enough but there was some honking and of course the casting of unlimited amounts of candy to all those scrambling kids who after the first few acts had accumulated enough carbohydrates to power the entire first through fifth grades for a full year. The parents were only slightly amused---but did tote the laden bags.
As the last outfit slid by, we just sat and reflected, yes reflected on the fact I had just consumed 8 toffees, 3 frozen sticks of unknown flavor and composition and a Tootsie Roll. Our senses had been over-whelmed by apparatus and unimaginable activity. Wow! I had to go home for a nap, as the kids fired up the after burners.
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