Of Trunks and Batons

It's hard to resist a parade when it deposits itself practically at my doorstep.

Leaving for my daily walk, I head south toward Broad Street, just like I do most days.

Today, I am greeted by an inflatable Snoopy, fist ducking under the street lights on the west side of the intersection and then rising to his full height in the middle.

It's still not all that high, but then this is no Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, either.

As I walk west on Broad, the parade is coming right at me with marching band after marching band from distant counties.

Just how early do you have to get up in Northumberland County to be here for a 10:00 parade?

Baton twirlers dressed in skimpy costumes throw, catch and occasionally miss, but their lipsticked smiles never waver.

The SEAL Team has a float and a cadre of OCD-looking people marching and probably wishing they were carrying logs or something.

One of the highlights is the River City Rollergirls, one of them carrying a sign saying "Seasons' Beating" as the they skate madly around her, attired in bright colors and knee pads.

My vote for most lurid entry in the parade is the partially-inflated Christmas tree, its brown trunk looking way too phallic as it wavered between full and flacid, and angled at the crowd below.

There were the Christmas Mothers doing the beauty queen wave from car dealerships vehicles.

Finally Santa came in view, accompanied by what I have to assume was the Snow Queen, although she looked young enough to be his granddaughter.

Mrs. Claus, take note.

Once himself had passed, the parade was over, so since it was time for me to turn around, I joined the gaggle of street vendors following the parade downtown and still hawking their  cheap, Chinese-made wares to a crowd of mostly families.

Cause nothing says Christmas parade like an inflatable SpongeBob Squarepants balloon on a stick.

And lots of Krispy Kreme donuts.

Didn't someone say this is the most wonderful time of the year?