Saint John’s Pride||Portland
My sister and her husband live in Saint John’s, a community rumored to be seceding from Portland sometime in the near future. Every May, they call us with excitement about the neighborhood’s most anticipated event of the year: the Saint John’s Parade, other wise known as the SJP (not in any way related to Sarah Jessica Parker). When they promised us that we would have the chance to wave at a 1999 PT cruiser convertible, we just couldn’t say no. We settled ourself upon the dusty pavement in front of an old abandoned building, and began to wave our free mini-american flags at the stream of slow-moving vehicles inching down Lombard Street. Sadly, the crowd was not in the mood for a parade that day, or so it seemed: Rose City princesses waved desperately from their back seat perches, as onlookers stared silently; a slightly terrifying Ronald McDonald threw candy to kids who didn’t move from their places on the curb; and when the mayor rode by (elbow-elbow-wrist-wrist-wrist), the only one to make any noise was a little boy in a blue dress and white shades who called out in the loudest voice he could: I LIKE YOUR CAR. I HAVE ONE AT HOME. EXCEPT ITS SMALLER. CAUSE IT’S A TOY.
pride comes in all shapes and sizes.
could we pleeeeze see that dress in color?
Oh, Shelby, this just cracks me up! I’m sorry we missed you. But yes, about that Ronald McDonald…it was the first thing that Little Miss G saw in the parade and he sent her into sheer Jamie Lee Curtis scream queen terror. She started stamping her feet, waving her arms in panic, crying, and shrieking! Then she crawled her way up my body like a scared kitten and wrapped her arms around me. She didn’t let go for the whole duration of the parade…two hours. Thanks a lot Ronald McDonald. I’m glad you didn’t show a picture of him (or the scary enhanced cowboy mask guy with ten acre wide hat)!
ohmygod. love.