The Glorious Fourth

Still playing catch-up … I realized this morning I’d forgotten to chronicle our neighborhood 4th of July parade, an event I photoblog every year. Don’t worry, there are photos and here they are:

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It’s become a tradition for our kids and grandkids to come to Tucson every summer for our neighborhood parade, itself a tradition. Polly was here, our son Greg and daughter-in-law Beth, and of course our grandson Quentin on his decked-out bicycle, the one we keep here for him to use when he visits (you can see him riding it in most of these photos). The dogs wanted to march too, but the pavement was too hot for their paws and … ignominy of ignominies … they had to be carried in. Yes, those are two teenaged neighborhood girls on the sound trailer, belting out patriotic songs along the route.

I love our little neighborhood and can’t say enough about the two or three residents who organize this event every year, or the neighbors who agree to open their houses and host everyone for brunch afterward (I’ll pat Donna and I on the back by noting that we hosted last year).

You may be wondering what happened to our annual Boyz at Hooters photo. The long & short of it is we got tired of it. The whole Hooters thing has run its course, and where do you go from there? Strippers? Greg and I decided we’d allow this particular tradition to fade away … before Quentin gets girl crazy.

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