At the Parade

Hermosa Beach has had an annual St. Patrick's Day parade for years and we have gone to every one of them.  Looking back at the first ones, they were kind of low-tech.  Mark Conti, who produced them, standing in the street in front of the library, yelling out the names of the groups going by to yesterday's event which included a tent, some folding chairs and a DJ set-up with loudspeakers. 

Back in the day we had such as "Green Elvis" who was a tall, skinny black man in a green wig and green satin suit, driving his go-kart around in circles.  The Early Irish, who looked like a prehistoric commune,  marching glumly down Pier Avenue, dressed in burlap sacking. A local bar rented a flatbed truck, installed the sides and their clientele rode on it, yelling and throwing wrapped, hard candy.  The year "River Dance" was the rage, they put up a big sign on the truck that read "Liver Dance" which still amuses me.  

The only thing that seems to have survived from the Good Old Days is the Budweiser Hand Truck Precision Marching Team.  Using hand trucks holding cases of the brand, the members wheeled and turned in formation.  But they used to throw green bead necklaces and they didn't yesterday.

We agreed at the parade's end that it was mostly groups of children.  And reflecting on that, I realized something - Forget saving for college!  Today's parents have to save just to get them through primary school! 

The Boy Scouts, the Girl Scouts, the Bluebirds all require uniforms.  The kids in the marching bands need a uniform and the musical instrument of their choice.  The Kelly School of Irish Dance requires special shoes, a costume, lessons and fees.  Sports?  The mandatory white karate outfit with changing colored belts. 

The one area where parents got a break was the grade school runners.  They wore beat-up tennis shoes, baggy board shorts and ratty-looking t-shirts.  "We used to look just like that," I mused, amused.