Monday, July 7

What I wouldn't do to allow one to actually float on a float; really, like levitate
We went to the Webster Groves Fourth of July Celebration Parade on Friday morning. It was blazing hot and barely a shady spot to be found. For those that aren't familiar, this was a very stereotypical Americana-type parade with decades of tradition inlaid. Local businesses, car-owner clubs, school clubs and politicians all graced floats down the streets, throwing candy and other propaganda to children waving flags. This was all fairly quaint. Until 20 minutes in when there was a long pause between floats. I stepped in the street in I-gotta-know-what’s-going-on way only to see a stopped float with a small gathering of people on the right side. This was all about one block away from us. People were fairly oblivious, but I was keenly aware that something was really wrong. Soon, the fire trucks and police cars that were leading the parade had to drive back to the start of the parade. Eventually, about 10 minutes later, the parade resumed with the following floats going around the stopped one. Kimberly thought that someone collapsed from the heat, I thought it looked like someone fell off. I really wish I had been wrong this time. Later that night, when we were about to watch a professional fireworks show, Brian mentioned that he heard on the radio that it was a girl who fell off the float and was run over by the rear tires. She died at the hospital; later I find out that she was 6 and her father was driving the float. So I sit watching this 45 minutes light and sound show that really seems inconsequential. I started to really feel like I needed to do something else with my life than what I currently am doing. Take a leap, do something passionately. But alas, today I still sit in my cube.