Everyone enjoys a good time however, and the Fourth of July parade attracts all.
There’s no better example of Vermonters making do than they do in Montpelier.
They can do it because their Capital is at the center of the state.
Montpelier is a small city with a big heart, surrounded by those of, by, and for the people who, save for Burlington, live in smaller ones.
They enjoy their parades because it’s more likely than not they know those parading, from U.S. Sen. Pat Leahy, to those of all ages honoring this and that.
There were five of us toting our folding chairs, rain gear, and umbrellas: Andy, his wife, Cindy, and her mother, Audrey Hall, come up from Cape Cod.
This year, the parade was on the afternoon of the day before the Fourth for reasons I did not attempt to know.
We arrived at the west end of the route as usual in time to find parking and chair space as close to the parade’s ending as possible.
I knew the drill well, but I had a personal problem requiring relief, and scooted ahead to find it.
Two blocks later I found twelve suitable structures from which to choose.
Relieved, I sought to find my family from among what had become a surge of others and a street lined with food fenders on both sides.
I walked easterly on the South side of the parade route, and then back westerly on the North side.
Alas, no familiar faces, so I walked westerly on the North side of the route, and easterly on the South side just past the dozen relief terminals, when I found Andy with a police officer who had apparently joined the hunt for one another.
With that done, we found the others sitting on the front porch of the Vermont History Museum which we had toured earlier in the day.