Untitled Document

PARADE STORY

(this four part narrative by iggy igloo attempts to, with glowing prose, invoke a multiplex consciousness which contextualizes the shifting subjectivities of the summer snowspaien experience, in effect historicizing the elusivity of summer snowmen philosophy….or whatever)

I. The Cub Scouts (of America)

The Fourth of July parade...it was never about America. Even when we were the Cub Scouts on bicycles with red white and blue streamers, the Cub Scouts of America, even then it was about something else. Something more localized. It was about popping wheelies and trying to ride them further than the other scouts without falling on your ass. It was about competition and glory in the gaze of parents and peers, fathers and imaginary fans. It was about showing off. It was a show. It was not about America. Then again, in a certain Whitmanian sense, I'm sure it was exactly about America.

II. Twenty-Five Mile Bike Ride Club (TFMBRC)

In junior high it was still not about America. Though we were not yet anti-American, belonging to a nation was not really the priority. Trying to fit in at school was enough. And finding good friends to belong to was enough reason to celebrate. It was not about America but it was definitely about victory. Freedom and independence. Participation was not obligatory as with the Cub Scouts. We made up a fake organization to enter the parade under: the Twenty Five Mile Bike Ride Club (TFMBRC). It was all about 'why not'. For Cycling merit badge I had gone on several 25 mile bike rides that summer and made them into adventures with my friends. Aspects of independence. I attached a piece of cardboard to my hat and wrote on it: "TFMBRC, A Nation For All People And Races, All You Need Is Love". It was probably too small for anyone to read, but it was the ritual of it that mattered. My bike was a jalopy lo-rider sort of thing that I had put together myself after trying to make my not cool bike into a cool bike like the cool kids rode-the Dyno stickers weren't fooling anybody so eventually I just gave up the Jones's envy and started expressing my inner mutant. We dressed very obnoxiously, rainbows and plaids and such. I wore goggles and shin guards. My friend Charlie put his bushy red hair in one rubber band straight up and my friend Greg put his in pig tails. The parade people put us behind the Shriner guys with their trikes, and in front of the Veteran guys with their shooting guns. None of us got shot, but Charlie did crash into one of the Shriners. They would do these neat figure eight patterns and we would try to copy them but get confused and fall off our bikes on purpose and run around like airplanes in unpredictable directions. That's not what we planned on doing when we set out, but that's what the act evolved into as the parade moved. I'm not sure what we actually planned on doing come to think of it. I guess just getting attention probably. Or just being ridiculous and conforming to non-conformity. Together. At the same time. As a group. Not alone. When we passed the grandstands at the end of the parade the guy with the bullhorn did not say we were the TFMBRC. He just said, "and now here's three kids riding their bikes." The crowd cheered us on nonetheless. Allthemore.

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