What is right with a small town
by Gary Torres
Jul 27, 2011 | 2262 views | 0 0 comments | 6 6 recommendations | email to a friend | print
MY CAVE, MY VIEW

Well the Pioneer Day celebration in Monticello is over and I guess we can all take a collective sigh of relief as we quit trying to hold our stomachs in, stand up straight, and look ten years younger than we are. 

That stroll in the park after the parade is tough on an old sloucher like me. I have the posture of a nice firm question mark. 

My too kind and loving wife kept whispering in my ear, “stand up straight and smile; that’s all you have to do is smile.”  Which is a lie, I had to try and remember names too.

I might have been able to do that; except that all those names and faces are stored in my brain under “M”. I only open the “M” file once a year on the Pioneer Day celebration in Monticello because the “M” file is also where I store “money.” Since having kids, I don’t have any money, so I quit looking in there.

Not one of our kids came home for the celebration, which really bummed out their mother as she didn’t have any grandkids to show off and to “sugar up”.

This meant that she was stuck entertaining me and I wasn’t in the middle of a project, so that is like trying to entertain a hyperactive ADD two year old on too much Mountain Dew with the memory of the Dodo Bird.

Hats off to Clayson Lyman, who with the help of an army of “volunteers”, managed to round up all the surviving Buckaroos in the world, minus my kids (as I have already complained about), and invited them to dinner, which made for a grand time had by all.

The talent show was at least as good as “America’s Got Talent”.  Every TV host knows that you can’t outdo kids and animals.

The youngest kids started out with a dance, which was interrupted by one cute little girl deciding that she needed to go to the bathroom right now. Her dancing debut would have to wait. 

“The show must go on” mentality of Hollywood was voted down by the hometown crowd; which let her mother run her to the bathroom and back on to stage.  Now really, how can you top a moment like that? 

That shows all that is right with a small town.

The parade dumped enough candy on the road that we could have filled the pot-holes of every major road in Monticello. This is no small task, and one that the City has yet to accomplish. 

But having buckets of candy thrown along the road does give the kids a chance to dodge under moving vehicles and learn valuable life skills. Like “if you want the reward, you have to be willing to take a risk.” 

And that shows all that is right with a small town.

I noticed County Commissioner Bruce Adams in the parade on a horse in a PINK shirt. Really Bruce, pink?  You are in the heartland on a horse; how about a nice brown Carhartt? And don’t think I didn’t notice that you were holding on to the saddle horn saying “whoa boy”. 

Apparently someone with a boat to sell managed to get into the parade. I am not judging or volunteering, but someone needs to screen the floats.  It would seem that the float and “theme” should be remotely related. (Try Faith, Family, Freedom & a 40-Foot Fishing Float?)

An awfully nice motorcycle could do wheelies. Too bad they forgot to put a muffler on it. After the 50th trip in front of me, I started to throw candy…at the motorcycle guy. 

But it is good to see that everyone still stands with their hand over their heart when “Old Glory” comes by. A sincere welcome home to the local military was offered by the crowd.

That is what is right with a small town.

Most creative non-entry as a float but great as a prop has to go to the Tow-Mater truck; the star of the movie Cars II. Tow-Mater was seen lurking around the Sno-Shack. It was a hit with all the kids. 

So many faces and people; most of whom I was actually glad to see.  I had more hugs in one day than I usually get in a year. 

And that shows all that is right with a small town.

Softball, good music, plenty of food, wonderful weather, plenty of people that I hadn’t seen for some time, two rounds of golf, four wheeling, eating enough food so that my “fat pants” are going to be difficult to get into: that is what is right about a small town.  Our small town! 

See you all next year.
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