I Love a Parade

It seems that folks of all political stripes are yearning these days for a past that viewed through the selective filter of memory was rosy with promise and good feelings. I caught a bit of that spirit the other evening as I stood in the cold along with thousands of others to watch our home town Grand Illumination and parade. The aforementioned lit up seasonal lights on buildings in the downtown area, while the parade was everything you remember about holiday parades.

There were marching bands replete with awkward youths in overlarge uniforms and hats, baton twirlers and cheerleaders in leotards, floats, decorated fire trucks, ambulances, even a street sweeper decked out in holiday lights and tinsel. It was in a word, refreshingly innocent. After the bitter tone of the past few months, in spite of the ominous reports from our country's new capitol in a gaudy mansion in Florida and far more serious actions unfolding throughout the world, for an hour or so one might imagine it was the 1960's and America was on its way to becoming a very different country.

The heady feeling of another time, a more peaceful and promising present came to a screeching halt as we joined the ranks of hundreds of cars all trying to leave downtown garages and head back home by means of a circuitous route that some devilish planner devised to test our reflexes and patience. An hour and a half later we completed our journey of twenty minutes. But at least we were toasty in our cars as we sat unmoving burning fossil fuels to befoul the city's air.

That, sadly, is what happens when we set out to celebrate a past that despite all appearances isn't what we remembered, and a present that rudely intrudes on our all too brief respite from the day's cares. If only we could capture and bottle up the goodwill, the wide-eyed and earnest enthusiasm of youngsters, and the patience with one another that saw thousands of folks line the streets in the wind and cold without exchanging sore words.

If we could capture that spirit, I'd save mine to waft in the air whenever bitter recriminations fly, when the news sounds defeat of our fragile existence on this planet, and when hatred and bigotry fly their flags with impunity. But to borrow a phrase from the Eagles' Hotel California, we haven't served that spirit here since 1969.

Perhaps our shared desire to capture that nostalgic vision reveals something we can all agree on, even if we do not share the same perspectives on much else. It is the yearning for a simpler, dare I say more peaceful and yes, innocent life. When we gather before our televisions on Thanksgiving Day and watch that parade, we are all of a single mind and however briefly we put aside the reality of our modern lives and pretend we are just children waiting for Christmas to arrive.