THE PARADE

When summer is on the way and the days get longer, I always think of our Memorial Days gone by…

And I’m in the driveway off Stratton Avenue looking hard at my Schwinn Black Beauty.  I had been waiting for this weekend to come since getting my bike for Christmas – the weekend when I knew I was going to win the “Best Decorated Bicycle” prize in the big Memorial Day parade; one of the biggest kid year events.

And so for days I had been drawing decorating schemes.  But I kept coming up with the same old and tired ideas -  Red white and blue.  Everybody did red white and blue.  I wanted to be different; to stand out and be recognized for my creativity by the judges; actually a panel of one  – the Mayor of our fair city.  I thought this problem through until my hair hurt.  I seemed to have a dreaded case of a bike decorator ideas block.

Year after year, I tried.  From kiddie three wheeler but now I owned the coolest bike in South Millville…my Black Beauty.  This was going to be my year.

And then the proverbial light bulb flashed above my head like in the funny papers…Black Beauty was a horse.  I am going as a cowboy in full range rider array.

I rushed into the house and tore through my toy closet.  I hadn’t worn my Hop-A-Long Cassidy outfit for two years  Would it still fit me?  Black jeans, black vest, black double holster with the white pearl handled six-shooters and the white felt Stetson.  All there and almost fit.  Except my white hat wasn’t so white and it was a bit crushed under a pile of much read Superman comic books.

On Saturday mom and I went to the 5 & 10 and bought (no red white and blue crepe paper but just three rolls of silver, black and white} – mom said this would be the match for my two wheeled steed with its shiny chrome fenders.  Black and White – a bit  conservative and a tad sophisticated approach to the Hoppy motif.

Hoppy was still very popular for us kids.  On many Saturdays we would cheer on our hero at the Levoy kid’s matinee show – we hooted him on to victory in his never ending pursuit of bank robbers and abductors of young ladies.

Sunday I worked on the bike in the time honored bike decorating fashion, first weaving the crepe paper carefully in and out of every spoke of my wheels.  I found that three rows of the three colors did the job.  Then I carefully wrapped the handle bars and spent an hour creating a long crepe paper tail – in my mind a great touch changing my Black Beauty into Topper, Hoppy’s faithful and trusted mode of pursuit conveyance.  I fashion streamers that I inserted into the holes in each grip on my handle bars.  I stepped back numerous time to survey my creation form a parade goers’ perspective.  Next, I applied the finishing but most important touch to my entry – I attached old playing cards to both fender struts with clothes pins liberated from my grandmother’s laundry.  This kid invention was known to all boys my age.  The card was twanged by the spinning spokes and this produced a very realistic “putt-putt” motor sound that we all loved to hear – pretending we were driving a real vehicle that didn’t depend on legs working hard to give your butt a ride.

And so it was finished.  

Come Monday morning we would ride down High Street from Broad to the City Hall – with our hope for Blue Ribbon win and then peddle the couple of miles to the Mount Pleasant Cemetery for the big finish to our salute to our country’s brave fighting men and what we guys loved best - the firing of the rifle salute into the air at the memorial.

Bright and early I rode up town - crepe paper flapping.  The high school band struck up its one number mastered for the parade – It’s a Grand Old Flag.  And off we went waving to friends and feeling the eyes of the masses on us.  (What is this need to wave when one is in a parade?  Presidents, Miss America, and Cub Scouts are all compelled to do it)

As for me, peddling my Hoppy Bike – it wasn’t all that easy – I still hadn’t mastered riding without a death-grip on my handle bars.  This bike was my first full sized bike.  My dreaded fear, to crash in the middle of this parade and become the laughing stock of the whole fourth grade.

I quickly waved now and then - but mostly kept my eye on the bikes ahead – to avoid the other dozen decorated bikes that were pitching and diving down High Street.  Bikes are not designed to go at walking speed – and keeping up and dodging less skilled riders became a wearing task.

And then we arrived at the "reviewing stand" of one.

The parade passed by and leading was Sally Star, grand marshal rented celebrity who hosted a cartoon show on local TV 6;  The American Legion Color Guard in silver helmets followed her; The Bonsal Blues another ex-military organization band with red faced guys whose uniforms used to fit; a convertible with a very ancient  man wearing what looked like a uniform from the war of 1812, his uniform fit; Another convertible compliments of  Uncle Simon’s Used Cars carry the effervescent Miss Cumberland County Fair Queen - waving;  Sonja’s School of the Dance and Baton with half a dozen wobbling 5 year olds who constantly dropped their rubber tip weapons in unison;  The Pitman Hobo band who didn’t have uniforms; and then our bikes; followed by every fire truck in the county; and lastly the 4H Club horses and we know why the horses are always last in a parade. 

The big parade was done as the Mayor on a bull horn announced the prize winners one of which was the bike decorating contest.  I held my breath.  This was it.  I finally in my young life would win my first big prize – it was a sure thing.  

Hoppy always wins.

“Winner of the bike contest,” the mayor uttered in stentorian phases.  “Having a very unique and creative theme…that shows creative work…and diligent design.”

Here it comes my moment I thought.

“The Winner is Mary Jane whose theme displays the true essence of Memorial Day - the good ole’ Red, White and Blue.  Congratulations my dear, here’s your ribbon and an added prize of five tickets to the Saturday movies – compliments of Uncle Simon’s Used Cars".

Oh no, this can’t be happening.  This was supposed to be my year.  My new bike.  My famous cowboy outfit.  My unique white, black and silver motif.  

Not ANOTHER loss!

As the parade turned to continue to the cemetery for the wreath ceremony.  I follow on my Black Beauty.  They played taps.  Shot off a twenty-one rifle salute.  And I started to cry.  I heard a lady nearby say, “Look Harvey, that nice boy, he must be very patriotic…the ceremony made him cry.

Little did she know...I wasn't thinking about our brave vets - I was already pondering next year's bike decorations.