And now…on to the 4th of July parade!
Here we are in Small Town America. I mean Small Town America. Tiny town America. Blink-and-you-miss-it Small Town U.S.A.
We all know Norman Rockwell, don’t we? The artist who painted portraits of cute. Portraits that tugged our heart-strings. Portraits that attempted to capture classic Americana. Click here to view some images if you’re not familiar.
I felt like Norma Rockwell today. I suppose all small town photographers of 4th of July Parades feel like a Rockwell spouse or cousin-twice-removed.
There is so much cute going on that you don’t know where to point the camera.
Let’s back up and set the scene a little more. Temperature: 90 degrees (32.2 celcius). So humid that one’s curly hair turns frizzy and wild. You walk along the street and you’re covered with sweat in six seconds flat.
“Oh Kathy!” an acquaintance called as I passed. (I was following my newspaper husband who was covering the parade for our weekly paper. Pretending to be a mime. His camera clicked; my camera parroted.) “You have SHORT hair!”
I self-consciously smiled and said hello, thinking “Oh dear. The hair is probably sticking straight up in the humidity and wind. It probably looks like Godzilla the Rockwell. How does one politely handle this?”
“Thank you!” I called, playing it safe.
She shook her head again.
“Short hair,” she said. “I have never seen you with short hair!”
(OK, here’s the scoop about the short hair. Shorter hair than usual anyway. I went in to the beautician a week ago and pointed at the frizzy curly hair and said with humorous irritation, “Please. Fix. This. You can see the problem, can’t you?” The beautician chopped cheerfully. Thus: shorter than usual hair.)
I can’t believe we’re discussing hair length instead of the parade. That’s what you get when you start free-associating in a blog.
Let’s talk Clowns. See the clown lady above? And her pink shoes? She and her partner in Funny are going to Clown School later this summer. Doesn’t that sound like fun?
Don’t you admire her intention to add a new skill to her life? For six seconds, after snapping her picture, I wanted to go to clown school as well. Norma Rockwell, the clown.
One of my friends (we shall not name who) and I stood and admired the men in kilts. “There is something about a man in a kilt,” she said. She dreamily looked at the Scottish Highlander Band. “If they only had long hair,” she added. I nodded enthusiastically. Yep. Something about those bagpipes, too. Very haunting. The music stirs your soul.
OK! Forget we just talked about men in kilts. Back to setting the scene. Remember that hot humid weather? Remember how we were sweating?
When suddenly–here comes the drizzle! Here comes the rain! Ohmygoodness, it’s raining like crazy! Barry, my friend and I all sought to hide our cameras. To protect the precious darlings.
The rain felt so delicious. So delicious.
Steam rose from our hot bodies. We felt like dancing in the streets! We felt like becoming part of the parade! We felt…blessedly…cool. Soaked, yes. But blessedly cool.
Before Ms. Norma parts for the evening, here it is. Last night’s cotton candy baby-sized ice cream cone. Some of you talked me into driving 17 miles into town to purchase the custard cone. Thank you kindly. If they had any other custard flavor than cotton candy, it would have been nirvana.
OK, readers! Hope you all had a lovely 4th of July. Hope none of you were lonely or sad. Hope all of you bloggers had lots of readers. If not, don’t worry. They will all come back in the next couple of days.
Until tomorrow, your pal, Norma