spynotes ::
  May 30, 2006
Nostalgia isn't what it used to be

Yesterday, following our annual tradition, we took AJ down to the town where his grandmother lives to watch the Memorial Day parade. This year, for the first time, none of our nieces was marching. The usual array of enormous Shriners in tiny cars and on motorized flying carpets was conspicuously absent. Instead, they were replaced by a dog-training club, which marched with about 30 dogs, 29 of which stopped to do tricks periodically. Number 30, a wild-eyed huskie, was freaking out, lunging manically now towards a toy poodle, now towards an unsuspecting toddler on the sidelines. I think his membership is about to be revoked. There was also, for the first time I can remember in nearly a decade of small town parade attendance, an actual float. This one was sponsored by a local bank and consisted of a giant flag made of rosettes topped by a very sweaty-looking Statue of Liberty, waving solemnly and occasionally wiping its green brow.

After the last marching band passed and the last scramble for candy in the street, we went back to my mother-in-law�s for pancakes. We also watched some old home movies that my brother-in-law had just had transferred to DVD.

Some of the films predated my husband. I saw my sister and brothers-in-law paddling in a Wisconsin lake with my now white-haired mother-in-law looking young and glamorous. My husband�s late father was flipping sausages on the grill in his immaculate khaki pants and perfectly buttoned polo shirt. AJ roared when he saw his father, aged 1, toddling around his backyard with a diaper sagging nearly to his knees as he dragged a baseball bat and tried on one of his brother�s gloves (it went up to his elbow).

After we�d had our nostalgic fill, we decamped for our house, us with AJ, and the rest following with enough raw meat and cole slaw to feed an army. Our plans to grill were thwarted by thunderstorms, but my husband fried meat on the stove while, in between squalls, AJ lured my brother-in-law out to the lawn to sprint through the sprinklers, shrieking.

The holiday is over today, but this evening I get a reprieve. I am hopping a train to the city to meet my friend H. at this fancy spa where we will drink wine while having our feet scoured and painted. I haven�t had a night of girliness in far too long. I am looking forward to it.
[Yesterday's entry was made late in the day. Click back if you missed Memorial Day memories of my grandfather.]

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