Don't Let The Parade Pass You By...

Ever since I can remember, I have been a fun-seeker. This being said, I love a good parade – heck…I even love the not-so-good ones. Line up a few cars and a drummer or two and I am thrilled.

I can sniff them out and often will drag my family and friends to see them. You never know what great sights and sounds await you during a parade but all I know is that I am never unhappy during a parade – and I have not known anyone else to be unhappy either.

My favorite parade is, without question, the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade – the foremost parade event on the planet. It has been a dream of mine to hold the job as Parade Director. My kids know that during the broadcast of the parade, they are to leave Mom alone to clap and cheer along the balloons, floats, marching bands, etc. as they make their way through the streets of New York City in all their commercialized glory.

I had the privilege in 2007 to be able to view this marvel both from street level and from the top of the Empire State Building – a treat that will always remain a treasured memory for me.

But here's the irony…..I cannot stand clowns. Never liked ‘em. Never trusted ‘em. When the clowns walk by, I make sure that I am standing as far away from them as possible. Not that I am certain that they are lovely individuals but I fail to find the charm in these colorful characters with flower pots on their heads and oversized shoes on their feet.

I digress.

On New Year’s Eve Day, my brother’s family, my fella, and myself were all entertained by “The Outback Bowl” parade on the streets of historic downtown Ybor City, outside of Tampa, Florida. It was happenstance that we stumbled upon this parade opportunity. We went to Ybor City to take in its quaintness and to eat some lunch but were rewarded with a bonus opportunity to enjoy this parade celebrating the University of South Carolina Gamecocks and the University of Iowa Hawkeyes . As I am an Iowan, I was able to fully enjoy this experience surrounded by several thousand of my fellow statesmen and Hawkeye fans.

But I don’t know if it was the company, the pleasant Floridian weather, the festive atmosphere or the excitement of the parade that evening, but as I watched the bands and floats and bead-tossing pirates pass me by, I took it as a sign. I was very, very happy.

And then it hits me. Isn’t life, after all, one big parade? We all march to the beat of our own drummers, we are able to watch people pass us by – some are princes and princesses, some are heroes and patriots, and some are even clowns and pirates. If we are lucky, we will be able to catch a few treasures tossed out by each of these people. There is music and dancing and picture-taking and celebrating. And the only way to truly enjoy it is to take it all in and clap and cheer it along.

Never be Vanilla

There are several mottos I live by.

One is this: “Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body—but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, "Wow, what a ride!" - Unknown

This being said, people who know me have heard me say, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” This exhausting perspective on life has allowed me to experience more wonderful moments than I ever would have had if I lived life more conservatively. I have placed myself in the paths of celebrities (yes, Brian Williams and John Lithgow, that was me who stalked you at the “South Pacific” performance at the Lincoln Center Theater in New York City!), I have shut down the Grand Ballroom at the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island (dancing to every song), I have watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade from the 102nd floor of the Empire State Building. I stop and smell the flowers and never pass a corner lemonade stand run by the entrepreneurial youth of my neighborhood.





This brings me to my other motto: Never be vanilla. Never be boring. You could be boring, but when you have the option to stand out amidst a sea of beige? Be Neapolitan. Be Peanut Butter Fudge. Be Bordeaux Cherry Chocolate. Just don’t be Vanilla.

Be flavors and colors and textures. Be unexpected. Be interesting. While I know that Vanilla is good flavor (and, far and away, THE most popular ice cream flavor) it is also very predictable. No risks. No regrets. I always know what I am gonna get.

Which brings us to my front porch. My house is a very traditional tan, brown, and burgundy. A “vanilla” house. However, the need for personal self expression (and a wonderfully creative artist-friend) has led me to paint my front porch the brightest color of turquoise imaginable. It looks completely out of context with the rest of my house…and my neighborhood. My kids are still trying to wrap their brains around it but they know their mother and understand. My neighbors take delight in, when giving visitors directions to their own homes, saying to them, “Okay, now when you turn the corner, you will see a house with an obnoxious turquoise front porch….that’s not my house.” My parents and grandmother are mortified by my color selection….although Grandma (who has a little bit of “sassy” in ‘er!) is beginning to come around to liking it.

But it makes a statement. And so do I. And so should you. Never be Vanilla. What flavor are you?

Until then, I remain…..1SweetMama