I Love a Parade
Days before Benicia’s July 3, Torchlight Parade, I noticed spaces blocked off on the sidewalks with chalk, tape, string, yarn, ribbon, and pen — Benicians’ way of reserving seats for the yearly spectacle. Soon after there were blankets, towels, sleeping bags, camp chairs, folding chairs, plastic chairs, bags of chairs backpacks, and even upholstered chairs set out, oblivious to overnight moisture, and theft. A scene out of Norman Rockwell.
The Pre-Parade
Planned to make a leisurely day of it as the parade wouldn’t get started until 6:30 pm. It didn’t turn out that way due to a lack of mindfulness on my part, never mind that I’ve been practicing it for 25 years. A “senior moment” might have been closer to the truth. Slept in until noon and then realized that Benicia Fitness on First would close at 2 pm. Inhaled my breakfast, pulled on some yoga pants, and drove over to the gym to save time. Usually I walk. Did a quick workout, left the gym, and spotted my car down the block. I got distracted by something. I like to think it was scarves and belts at Elisa’s cottage but that’s the other direction. Then I walked — home. Made some lunch and sat down for a leisurely meditation giving myself plenty of time to get ready for the parade. Had just dozed off when my land line rang. I picked up, although it’s mostly unauthorized calls.
“City of Benicia,” a woman said. “Are you Sarah Beserra, and do you drive a 2011 red Corolla?” “Yes,” I said. How did they know that? “If you don’t move your car in the next few minutes, we’ll tow it. The parade is just about to start.” My heart started racing. “OMG,” I said. I’ll be right there.”
“Okay. I’ll notify the towing company not to remove it if you get here right away.”
All of a sudden I was awake, and not in the spiritual sense. I was wearing old sweats and my hair looked like Bob Ross on a bad day. Grabbed a big floppy hat and keys and ran three blocks.
“I’m gonna have a heart attack,” I thought.
Mine was the only car on the empty street. A police car was parked next to it. Sidewalks were packed with parade watchers. People were seated in front of the Hotel and up and down the street. Earlier, had told some friends that I would stop by their table during the parade. Dashed to the Corolla, tripping on my Uggs.
“I hope nobody recognizes me.”
“Make a U-turn and follow me,” the police officer said.
With hands shaking and heart pumping, I made a U-ey and pulled up behind him. He had driven no more than a few feet when he stopped his car and started chatting with some folks out his open window. I slumped down in my seat, pulling my hat over my ears..
“Please, just get me off First St.,” I prayed.
“Pass him and turn left on D St.,” a foot cop called out. “Thank you!” I yelled. Whew! I was almosthome. As I turned onto East 2nd, I was swallowed by a metallic sea of vibrating Corvettes, revving theirengines in preparation for a right turn down East B St. and into the fray. There I was in my Corolla — a swine among pearls. I was surrounded by a rainbow of gorgeous shimmering red, burgundy, silver, and blue precision race cars, their drivers dressed to the nines. As we inched forward, I flashed to an image of Niagara Falls and me in a barrel.
I put my car in “P” and jumped out looking for a way through. A kind, older fellow appeared out of nowhere and said, “We’ll take care of you, baby. We’ll get you home.” Don’t know who he was — the angel Gabriel, perhaps. I wanted to kiss his feet. The cars parted, and I slowly inched my way through and into my driveway. It was minutes until start time. I changed pants and switched out my chapeau in case someone recognized the hat.
The Parade
It was bigger and better attended than any I remember and took a couple of hours. The Rose Parade in Pasadena is over five miles long and takes about the same amount of time. Ours was less tightly choreographed and had some gaps.
Started off with our first responders, and then a vintage jeep with four Veterans of Foreign Wars. Just about every club, organization, city department, official, team, school, and non profit was represented. Loved the people dressed as vegetables walking alongside the Food is Free van including a fellow dressed as a fruit with a Carmen Miranda hat. There was the Quad Squad of girls doing fancy maneuvers, jumping over each other on their skates, gymnasts doing back flips, a bulldog wearing a shark costume, and a bubblegum pink fire engine named “Christine.”
Hundreds of little kids swarmed like locusts up and down the street, sometimes becoming part of the parade. Trucks, tractors, and other forms of transportation stopped mid-block, their passengers handing out candy, cards, gum, and other treats. A miniature version of Anderson Cooper stood next to me in all his dapperness. Three or four years old he rocked a stylish denim jacket, navy blue Bermudas, red, white, and blue socks, sky blue strappy sandals, a button- down shirt, and red sunglasses perched on his platinum blond head. Can prep school and the Ivy League be far behind?
I heard a hum toward the end of hour two, and there they were — my people, “The Family and Friends Corvette Club” of Sacramento their collective hum giving me chills. TheVertical doors that looked like sails were open wide and met with “oohs” and aahs” from the crowd.
“I rode with them,” I bragged to my friend.
Thinking back, I’m grateful that I didn’t get a ticket for parking on the parade route and that I was treated so graciously by Benicia’s finest. Thank you Benicia Police Department! And Benicia Main Street, thanks for the memories.
