Saturday, September 27, 2014

Ein Prosit

Saturday, October 27  2014

Happy Oktoberfest.  I am getting wild and changing the font today!  Whoo-hoo! And, I do believe that will be the extent of my "Oktoberfesting."  Sometimes, I wish it had the same lure it used to.  When I was young and a lot less tired, I would circle Oktoberfest weekend in red on the calendar.  It was the weekend everyone looked forward to.
I remember marching with the band in high school for the 2 mile long parade.  (something like 2 miles....it's a long stinkin' parade.)
I should clarify....I never marched in the band, I marched with the band.  There was no way in hell that I was ever going to be caught dead in one of those band uniforms, and I certainly wasn't about to lug my dang saxophone around with me all day long.  Fortunately, the band also included twirlers, flag girls (I think they should be called flag people, why only girls?  WHY?) and "song leaders."  Oh...it just occurred to me.  The flag people really do have a name.  Color guard.  That is much more official sounding.
Back to "song leaders."  Now, if you are not from the metropolis of Westby, WI, you may be picturing a row of girls, marching down the street, attempting to lead the crowd in song.  Perhaps, singing along to the tune that the band was playing.  Or, since it might be a little challenging to be heard over them, singing Kumbaya, in time to the drum cadence. 
While that is a lovely idea, what we actually were (yes, I was one of them) was pom-pon girls.  (You DO know it's pom-pon, not pom-pom, right?  I will spell it correctly, but I will never actually say it that way.  It sounds a bit precocious.)

The song leaders (pom-pon girls) got to wear red sequenced tops, white little skirts and, wait for it.....white go-go boots!  Personally, I LOVED the boots.  However, for some reason, my sophomore year, we ended up with ugly tennis shoes, adorned with sequenced ankle thingys.  (Like wrist bands for your ankles.  I guess in case our ankles got sweaty?) 
See?!  The boots were fabulous.  Just like my glasses.

Anyway, I made sure I nailed that audition Freshman year...because I was going to wear SEQUENCE....not POLYESTER (well, technically, I WAS wearing polyester...but it was MUCH sexier) whenever we were playing "Marching Band."
( Side note: When football season was over, we magically became the Concert Band.  I didn't get to wear sequence and go-go boots there.  And I DID have to lug that saxophone around.  It was exhausting.)
So, we marched our two miles, and I shook my pom-pons, for four years.  I recall at a  parade in Milwaukee (or somewhere not around here) my nose started to bleed, quite severely.  No worries.  I had a huge red pom-pon.  
Good God.
When I was a freshman in college, I was a basketball cheerleader at Viterbo. (For the one year they had cheerleaders)  As a fundraiser, we got to hand out cardboard trucks for A1-Glass Company in the Oktoberfest parade.  This sounded easy.  We wore our cute Viterbo sweatshirts, and started off behind the real truck.  (They didn't drive a cardboard truck.)  We quickly realized that this was not going to be easy, because as we took our handfuls of cardboard trucks out to the crowd, the real truck would get way ahead of us.  So, we ended up running the entire parade route, back and forth between the real truck and all the little kiddies who wanted a cardboard truck, in our hot, who-gives-a-damn-if-these-sweatshirts-are-cute-because-we-are-DYING-of-heatstroke-right-now, attire, ready to collapse. 
We never volunteered to do that again.
Two fellow cheerleader/cardboard truck runners

As adults, my friends have always gathered in one spot for the parade, and we all bring food and (adult) beverages to share.  The little kids sit on the curb, and the adults mingle.  It's a nice time to catch up.  As the years have gone by, the group gets bigger and bigger, and I know less and less people.  Last year, my kids didn't want to go, and since my husband is a band director....he is IN the parade, so I went alone.  And there I stood.  Alone.  It sucked.  I ended up just walking around, and then, once Mark was done, went home.

Big crowds are no longer my "thing."  In college, I would run into tons of people I knew during Oktoberfest.  Now, I just run into people...literally.  Well, they typically run into me, since I'm not the one getting fall-down drunk.  Cell phones don't work, because there are too many people trying to use them, so trying to meet friends is almost impossible.  Parking is a nightmare.  As I'm writing this I am thinking "and why do people do this every single year?!"
I don't think I know how to party anymore.
Let me re-phrase that.  I don't think I want or like to party anymore.
I think I might finally be a grown-up.  
Or maybe just a stick-in-the-mud....?
The fact that I have a church job does not help.  The thought of drinking beer during the parade Saturday morning/afternoon, and then trying to be functioning in time for church at 5:00.  Yikes.

I have much better plans anyway.  I have a hot date.  My husband will be gone all day.  Who knows what the kids will be up to.  I will most likely have the house all to myself.  I already have it all planned out.  I am going to put on my fancy pj's, brew a big cup of coffee, and my new best friend "Blogging for Dummies" and I are going to hang out until I have a clue.  It will be awesome!

And if you are wondering why this sounds like it was written last night....it was. This is one of those dates.  No interruptions allowed.

Have a super Saturday everyone!

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