Last night after I exited the Post office in mist that was formerly
rain, and would be again, and was driving through our little town of Junction
City I saw before me the flashing lights of a fire truck.
It was parked
crossways of the road. Don’t despair, nothing bad, it was blocking the road for
a parade.
Presently a group of people, teens primarily, came down the
street carrying a banner. Written across the banner was “JC” and something else
I couldn’t read. Behind them a group of girls with gold glittery pom poms
waving, and wearing cheer-leader type outfits were strutting down the street.
I looked around.
Nobody was watching.
Well, I was.
A parade was happening,
in the dark, in the cold, in the mist. I remembered feeling that cold when I
was a Booster girl in High School and played the drum, and we marched in our
little outfits and froze our butts off.
I turned and found a roadblock thwarting my way back home. I drove down one street then another avoiding road blocks that wasn’t blocking anyone but me. Wait, do you hear it? Barbra Streisand is singing “Don’t Rain on My Parade.”
I turned and found a roadblock thwarting my way back home. I drove down one street then another avoiding road blocks that wasn’t blocking anyone but me. Wait, do you hear it? Barbra Streisand is singing “Don’t Rain on My Parade.”
Maybe that parade was for me.
Now, here’s something--sort of a parade that will warm your heart and cause tears to over-flow. I love love love this commercial--makes me cry every time I watch it. I found it without
commentary. See if it comes through...
Hint Budweiser Clydesdales
I worked for me. Ta Da!
