|
 The annual Fourth of July parade through our town
began this year with a mystery. You see, a couple of the boys
cornered Jimmy Angles yesterday down by Lewis Creek and hit him in
the mouth. On purpose. Ordinarily, this wouldn’t have made headlines
in the Valley Weekly Miracle, or even the New York Post, but Jimmy
played first trumpet in the band.
Played … past tense. The pain and swelling of his lips meant he
couldn’t play the great trumpet solos in Mr. Sousa’s marches on the
Fourth. It meant that the other three trumpeters all moved up a
notch. The new “first” trumpeter just happened to be one of Jimmy’s
assailants.
The horses came first, of course, with cowboys and cowgirls and
wannabe cowboys and cowgirls and used-to-be cowboys and cowgirls
riding along and waving.
Then came the 4Hers, dragging reluctant lambs and goats after them.
But hey, they were shiny clean lambs and goats. The queen and
several other cute high school girls followed in a convertible, and
then came the band. [to top of second
column] |
The parade’s brain trust, Doc
and Dud, actually, planned it this way. It was decided over coffee
that is was a far, far better thing we do to let the horses go first
so the band wouldn’t frighten them. If this meant the 4H kids and
the band members had to dodge a few equestrian “products” on the
street, so be it.
A small town parade on the Fourth of July is where everyone goes to
see how big the kids have gotten over this past year, and to
celebrate us all being different … and the same … for yet another
year.
But how about Jimmy Angles and the temporarily inactive trumpet
mouth? We found out as the band came into view. Jimmy was out in
front of them all, carrying the American flag.
Happy birthday America!
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]Brought
to you by the 5,400 letter carriers who were bitten by neighborhood
dogs last year. Let Fido watch TV for an hour and save a postman. |
