You should see this at least once.

January 1, 1999 Pasadena California.
I was invited by the City of Pasadena, along with five other guests to sit in the front row at the curb to view the annual Tournament of Roses parade. This was offered to visually impaired and family. So, Ronda, her sister and brother-in-law, our youngest daughter and a friend, myself and my guide dog Axle came early that morning and was met with cups of coffee and donuts. All a tremendous offer no one could refuse.
But let me back up. We arrived in Pasadena the evening previous, rented a car, and made our way to our hotel. Once settled we all jumped in our rented car and decided to cruise down Colorado Boulevard and view the crowd. They say by New Years morning there are approximately a million parade viewers. Some sitting out from the curb and behind the blue caution line. Some sitting on blankets, sleeping bags along with picknick baskets, deep friars or camp stoves cooking up fish, burgers, and maybe chicken. A mass of people all along the five-and-a-half-mile parade route. A gathering of people to rival that of when Moses was in the wilderness.
But anyway, our cruising down Colorado Boulevard passing the throngs of humanity was quite eventful itself. As we slowly drove pass celebrating crowds our car was being splattered and pelted with shave cream, marshmallows, spray string, and flour tortillas. Then our next stop was at the self-serve car wash.
Now back to this parade thing. We found our seats and prepared ourselves for some great parade viewing. I had a headset with a FM radio receiver and listened to a couple of guys sitting up behind where we sat as they described each float, marching band, and equestrian unit. Using a low powered FM broadcast station.
My brother-in-law mentioned he came along to satisfied his wife’s insistence. But once the D1 bombers flew over at the start of the parade his attention was seriously focused on viewing the parade. None the less, the floats were spectacular with flower, leaf, seeds, and anything grown organically. The Grand Marshal was Shirley Temple Black, the famed child actress.
But carrying on, the highlight of our trip the next day was when we drove to the city park to view up close the flowered floats. We parked our car and walked around the huge display of flower and motorized frames. Then when we returned to our rented car, we quickly realized Ronda had left the keys in the ignition switch with the motor running and the doors locked. After an hour and a half of waiting, the automobile club came and flip open the locked door. Thank goodness for triple-A. Happy New Year.

Published by OkieMan

I come from a family who migrated from the parched red dirt Plaines of southern rural Oklahoma. Migrating to blue collar working class community of East Los Angeles. There is where I was born. I am Mr. Writermelon. I can only write what my grammar and spell checker allows. I am neither profound nor profane. Boy howdy! Send comment to: Mr.writermelon@gmail.com

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