Thursday, July 06, 2006
Fourth of July Parade Melee--Part 1
Hi, Scenes and Beans readers. Bailey here with you on day two of our new blog, doing my best to type the story of the July Fourth parade mayhem. All of the S&B bloggers are crowded around, and I've promised each one a paragraph. Everybody's talking at once, and I can hardly think with all the noise. Somehow we'll get through this post. But, mercy, after this story, I am having each person write his or her own post, and I'll simply be the one to put it on the blog each weekday morning. A few more days of this and I will go stark raving crazy. And I do have a cafe to run.
So here goes with the story:
[Bailey] "Hup, hup, hup!" Sam Reddington, leader of the Manic Mowers, boomed in his bass voice. The thirty Manic Mowers were sandwiched between the Kanner Lake cheerleaders in front and a float of veterans behind. The MMs strut their stuff something fierce, let me tell you. They're dressed in all kind of crazy ways. Some in shorts, with their skinny legs and big bellies. Some in jeans and T shirts with the Manic Mowers logo. Charley Haight wore green and purple basketball shoes with long pink socks. Don't ask my why. (Oh. Bev wants me to add that's not all he had on.)
[Janet Detcher] The funniest MMs are the men dressed up as women. Larry Cellaway was one of those men. Now Larry's a big guy, standing six foot three, with plenty of muscle. He's in his forties (he said he didn't mind my telling you that) and is rather a town comic. This year he wore the ugliest red ruffled skirt you ever did see, clear down to his ankles. (Now where on earth did he get a skirt like that?) And a flouncy yellow top. A curly blonde wig. And--well, I just have to blurt this out--he went overboard in the chest department. He had large enough balloons filled with water to fill an E cup brassiere, and every sashaying step he took (the MMs do sashay), those fake busts would heave up and down so hard they'd smack him in the chin, then the waist. If I had to say what started all the trouble (other than the bee landing on his nose), it was his top-heaviness, plain and simple.
[Bev Trexel] Any man dressed like Larry Cellaway in public deserves a downfall, if you ask me. Sam was hupp-ing, and the men were jouncing along, following his commands. "Right haaand, uuppp!" All would raise their right hands and push their lawn mowers with the other. "Now, leeefffft!" Up would go the left hands. "Drink 'er up!" The MMs would pretend to beguzzling a can of soda as they strode along. Except that Larry couldn't keep his drinking hand to his mouth, for the force of his chest knocking it away with each step. Honestly, that man.
[Angie Brendt] Oh, Bev, lighten up, Larry was a riot. I giggled so hard, my stomach's going to hurt for a week. "Companeeee, hallltt!" cried Sam, and the MMs snapped to a stop quick enough to make any regiment leader proud. "Fronts uppp!" The MMs brought the two front wheels of their lawn mowers up. "Aboouuuttt face!" The MMs spun a one-eighty. Sam kept up his calls, and the MMs went left, right, spun again, kicked their legs, put their hands on their hips and did a little hokey pokey. All in perfect time. Goodness, how those boys must practice.
[Jake Tremaine] Yup, we practice, all right--every Saturday for a month before the 4th. Thing is, we're not in costume, and, well, you get a man in a skirt and things happen. Besides, the final 540-degree spin is one tricky piece of business. First time I marched with the Manic Mowers, I practiced it on my back patio for hours until my neighbor hollered over the fence she was gonna call the Humane Society for Mowers on account of the way I mistreated my fine piece of equipment. One time I even--
[Wilbur Hucks] Oh, hush, Jake, I done heard that story a hundred times. Besides, it's my turn. But before I tell about the 540, there's something you got to know. It was doggone hot here on the 4th. Hot enough that Larry Cellaway didn't even think of wearing anything but his skivvies under that red ruffle skirt. "Centerrr, menn!" Sam called, and the MMs faced front. "Hup, hup-hup-up-up-up!" That there's the signal that the 540's a-comin'. The MM's hands tightened on their handles, every muscle gathering for the whirl the crowd was waitin' for. "Five-forteeeee-go!" Up came the front wheels of those fine machines, the men spinnin' in precision only a foot from each other. One wrong step and somebody's gonna bust a gut for sure . . .
[Sarah Wray] I'm up? Oh, now I'm nervous. Well, okay then. I happened to be watching Larry. A little hard not to, what with that bouncing chest of his and all. I think it came up to his eyeballs long about mid spin. I saw him jerk one hand off his mower and swipe at his face. I figured he was trying to push his breasts back into place so he could see where he was going, but then he let out a yelp. Apparently a poor helpless bee got stuck a-twixt his nose and those bobbing things--and let his schnozzle have it. Larry batted at his nose again--and oh, saints a'mighty, his lawnmower got away from him, headed straight for a baby in a stroller on the sidewalk.
{Pastor Hank Detcher] Our quick-thinking Chief of Police, Vince Edwards, was standing next to the stroller. He yelled, "Watch out!", jumped into the street, caught the lawnmower and shoved it back at Larry. By this time Larry had stumbled into the line behind him, pushing Tanner Crayl and Sam Greene out of their line. Tanner rammed his mower into Sam Greene's ankle. Greene yelled like a banshee and went to kick the thing away. Then everything happened so fast. The next thing I knew, row two was stumbling back over row three's mowers, and row four ended up in row five. Larry's long skirt got caught in the wheel of his flying mower. The machine spun one way, Larry whirled another-- and in front of the entire town that red skirt of his ripped clean off his waist to the ground.
Like to bust a gut laughing, especially at Larry's orange polka-dotted skivvies!
Land's sake, I don't know what possessed him to wear those...they weren't even color coordinated with the dress...men! No fashion sense!
I'm bookmarking this blog. What a fun place to be.
And, um, Anonymous from yesterday who's interested in S-Man--I think he sounds rather fascinating myself. At least I have the courage to sign my name.
We heart surgery scar men have to stick together.
Although, from the way Part One ended, perhaps Larry Cellaway's demise is yet to come.
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Hank Detcher ~ pastor and friend
Janet Detcher ~ keeps Hank in line
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