A Parade Runs Through It

A PARADE RUNS THROUGH IT

Exactly fifty years ago my hometown celebrated its 150^th birthday – its sesquicentennial. I was an eleven year old boy and I remember it very well. Which is quite disconcerting. I mean, that's a half-century ago! Oh my!

Anyhow, a half-century ago my hometown had a celebration commemorating 150 years of existence. I remember that, during the months before the festivities, the men of the town were ordered to grow beards. I was never quite sure exactly why they had to do this. Were they honoring the pioneers? The town founders?

My father grew a wonderful, chestnut-colored beard. I can still picture him as he used butch wax on the tips of the mustache and then twirled the points of it into curls. He looked remarkably like Sir Walter Raleigh, at least to my pre-teen eyes. Some of the men in the town, for whatever reason, didn't want to grow the facial hair or their jobs required them to be beardless. Those gentlemen had to buy shaving permits and carry them on their persons for the privilege of going smooth-cheeked. Anyone caught beardless and without a permit had to serve a sentence in a old-time jail cell and had to call friends and relatives to bring bail to have him released. All in “fun” of course. At least for the jailers. Beards weren't very prevalent in the late '50's, so seeing so many of them on the streets was a treat for us kids.

The days when a lot of men wore beards were a decade or so in the future when the hippies started to make them popular.

Along with the beards that the men had to wear, there were proclamations from the mayor, extra fireworks for the 4^th of July celebration, a time capsule to be sealed and, of course, a big parade.

I remember the '58 parade. I remember the floats, the bands, the new and old cars. I remember the beauty queens although, at age 11, I wasn't quite sure why they were memorable. I can still see the politicians riding in their convertibles, the military units marching in their crisp uniforms, the police and sheriffs marching. And I remember all the equestrian units with their beautifully groomed horses, and bright, shiny saddles and reins. It was an exciting time for me.

Last Saturday I watched another parade as it wound it's way through my hometown. This one was celebrating its 200^th anniversary and it will be my last one of this sort. The next one will undoubtedly be held in 2058 and I would be 111 years old that year if I were still alive. Although 111 is an interesting number, I really doubt I'll see it. Hell, if I see next Wednesday I should be thankful. In any event, I was honored to be among the bystanders at this year's bicentennial parade.

I marveled as I watched at the similarities between the two parades. There were the floats, of course. Many of them commemorating the same things as before – 4H groups and their ongoing projects, churches demonstrating tenets of their faith, fraternal organizations in all their finery with feathers, swords and jewels of office around their necks, military auxiliaries and, of course, beauty queens. I appreciated the young ladies more this time around! Then there were the politicians waving and smiling to present and future constituents. The governor himself participated in this one, striding alongside his convertible and kibitzing with the crowds. The military units were present also. I noticed and participated in the enthusiastic applause as the United States Marines Color Guard marched proudly by in their dress blues. More old and new cars, more boy and girl scouts, more baton twirlers. And more beautiful horses either pulling historical wagons or being ridden by all manner of smiling horsemen and women.

Some things were new, however. Ronald McDonald on a Segway was new. Batman and Superman on a Cable Television Truck were definitely new. And the multitudes of children participating in the parade were new. They're the ones that will be sitting where I sat when the new '58 parade that will surely be brought forth at its appropriate time is kicked off.

This parade is now one for the history books. And I wonder what the one in fifty years will look like.

Perhaps it will feature flying cars! Astronauts who have walked on new worlds. Maybe the floats will actually float on anti-gravity devices. And perhaps some visitor from a distant star will join us by sitting in a convertible and waving to the crowds.

But I bet the horses will still be there. The military units will still march proudly down the main street. The firetrucks and the boy and girl scouts will surely be there. And the beauty queens?

You better believe they'll still be there!

The past is the future is the past.