Paul Bunyan Days: Part Two

As promised, the second scintillating installment of Paul Bunyan Days reporting.

fire trucks

I can’t be the only one who views this scene and thinks but wait, what happens if there’s a fire during the parade?

When I turned to my father to ask him this very question, he said “well, we’d call Elk in, obviously.”

“But wait,” I started to say, “what if Elk is in the…” and, indeed, as I spoke, a cavalcade of Elk fire trucks went by.

“Guess we’re fucked,” he said.

labour unions

Here’s the sole entry from the labour unions for a labour day parade. Pretty pathetic, if you ask me. Directly in front of us you can see the local SEIU. I’m not sure how oil drilling relates to a service industry employees union, but, uh, that’s cool I guess.

Belle of the Redwoods

The Belle of the Redwoods is a refreshingly American and capitalist contest. It just goes to show you that anyone with enough money and drive to win can be whatever they please–it doesn’t matter if the Belle is butt ugly, as long as she sells more raffle tickets than any other contender. I love it. Luckily for us, this year’s Belle is pretty easy on the eyes.

Cowlick's Ice Cream

Here’s the entry from Cowlick’s, Johanna as usual busting out with the amazing truck decorations. Seriously. How can that not be a winning float? Good ice cream, too.

Code Pink for peace

Here are the hippies.

The children were trying to get a chant going:

“What do we want? Peace! When do we want it? Now!”

An uneasy hush fell over the street as they passed, and the next time they started up the chant, I contributed:

“What do we want?”

“VIOLENT REVOLUTION,” I bellowed, from directly behind the Grand Marshal’s Stand, which also included KOZT broadcasting the parade live. Parade goers in my vicinity stepped back a few paces.

“When do we want it?”

“NOW,” I said.

A parent shot me a filthy look.

Mendo parents for peace

“What do we want,” the children started up again, gamely.

“VIOLENT REVOLUTION…” my father and I bellowed back, along with a few other plucky bystanders. A man in camo pants with a menacing bulge in his pocket drifted in our direction.

“When do we want it,” the children said, as the KOZT announcer upped the volume on his mike and attempted to drown us out with some sort of parade related announcement.

“NOW,” we replied.

Ah, Fort Bragg.

[Paul Bunyan Days]
[Fort Bragg]