TheBanyanTree: From FB

[Theta Brentnall]

This is what happens when the sun comes out in Portland. People come outside and have their own little parades. Because the sun is shining. 

What a happy story. 

Theta

Sent from my iPad

> On Apr 16, 2015, at 1:19 PM, Monique Colver <monique.colver at gmail.com> wrote:
> 
> The sun shone down upon the land, and in the streets there was great
> rejoicing, and a hastily planned parade, which is the best kind, because
> there's no chance to think, "Oh, this is going to look stupid," before the
> procession starts, so the dogs with party hats and the cats on leashes and
> the high school float start their meandering through town, and the veterans
> of other wars join in, some of them in uniform, some of them with only the
> pajamas they woke up in. There was no chance to dress appropriately, but
> since it was a last minute parade there was no need to.
> 
> The church bells rang, mysteriously starting up as if the force of the
> parade had made it happen, but it was only Mr Swenson, pushing the right
> buttons at the right time. He'd made a successful career out of pushing
> buttons, and now that he was retired he jumped (not literally, he was too
> old for those sorts of gymnastics) at any opportunity to push buttons again.
> 
> Miss Kravitz from the end of the street, from the ramshackle house that
> looked as if even a reputable ghost would avoid it, came out on her front
> porch, something she rarely did, and began waving the only banners she had,
> her brightly colored bras, all different colors, as if Miss Kravitz were a
> toucan and not a down on her luck former tax preparer. She waved
> enthusiastically, she swung those bras so hard she lost her a grip a couple
> of times, and red and purple underwear went flying into the street.
> 
> The parade goers didn't mind, not much anyway, because the sun was out, and
> the marching band, which was a piccolo, two tubas, and a bass drum, was
> making such a racket.
> 
> From his office two streets over the mayor heard, and he rushed to see what
> all the commotion was about, leaving behind two assistants who were so busy
> discussing Mad Men that they'd missed the concept of the parade all
> together. The mayor would never let them forget that faux pas, for he loved
> to lead off all the parades, walking in front like a drum major, except for
> his lack of discernible skills. He raced to the front of the parade, though
> in his condition it was more like a quick shuffle. But the parade was short
> and he reached the front quickly.
> 
> By the time the sudden parade reached the end of downtown there were more
> participants than watchers, for everyone wanted to join in, even the
> chickens kept by the Hansons, and the ducks that were always looking for
> water.
> 
> It was the first day of summer, the best day.