Small Town Parade

I grew up in a small town in Kansas. A traffic jam might occur after our hometown football team–the Kansas State Wildcats–would win against Nebraska-causing the agricultural students to pull out their tractors and zoom 5 m.p.h. down our main drag.

 

Graphic courtesy of: albumelossless.wordpress.com
The only signs I witnessed of the “big-town” mentality was a coffee shop (that flopped) and the outrage over Metallica coming to play at our stadium-only to be greeted by a bunch of picketing conservatives.

 

Now that I live in the booming metropolis of Tulsa (which is really still considered a mid-sized town), I miss my hometown roots. I miss knowing the old men hanging out at the donut shop, the guy bagging our groceries and the names of everyone in my church.
I miss the small town parades full of “Sunflower Queens”, insurance company-sponsored floats, tractors, horse poop and candy.
So, I was elated when Biceps’ fire department participated in their district’s hometown parade just outside of Tulsa.

 

I grabbed my cute mother-in-law, made some coffee and headed out in hopes of witnessing combines (pronounced kom-bines) going down the road, noisy high school bands and scary clowns.

 

It became immediately clear that I would not be disappointed.

 

Of course, the Shriner’s were there. It’s not a real small town parade without them.

 

I don’t understand what exactly the “Shriner’s” are or even what they do-but I like seeing their very weird cars and eating the candy they throw at me.

 

The horses are typically put at the end of a parade-due to what comes out of their back end. However, these furry dudes were smack dab in the center of the parade.

 

Right before the fire department made their grand entrance. The boys had to dodge heaps of you-know-what.

 

This guy here is a good friend and belongs to the same fire department as Biceps.
He’s one of the sweetest men you’ll ever meet and lucky for him-he’s married to one of the sweetest ladies I’ve ever met in a long time. And yes, this is his really cute Dalmatian.
Too perfect.
The fire department was one of the highlights of the parade-at least for me and my mother-in-law.

 

We were so proud of this guy that’s throwing candy. At me and his mother.
He is so naughty. But you already knew that.

 

Boy, does he think he’s funny.
With my need for the small town parade satisfied, mother-in-law and I loaded up our candy booty and headed off to pick up the naughty boy, while dodging the horse poop left on the street.
Ah, I love the small town parade. It will tide me over until I can go “home” sometime soon.

Giant Tortillas, Old West Style

Ah, Scottsdale, Az. “Land of the Giant Tortillas”.

Or at least, I think that’s the city’s slogan. I could be wrong. I have been before. It’s at least our slogan for obvious reasons…

 

Now, let me give you a little backstory to these two shots of Biceps and the food that we partook of.

 

Old Scottsdale is a historic section of the city that is now mostly overrun by snow-birds. I feel a little more at home than most tourists, claiming my right to the town via my Grandpa, Aunt and Cousin who still live there. Plus, I knew what to wear-my Luchesse’s. They sound fantastic clopping along the plank sidewalk.

 

They look great as I stand next to hundred year old missions made of baked mud bricks.

 

And they fit right in as I am chowing down on the best mexican food Scottsdale has to offer-Los Olivos.

 

Los Olivos is a bizarre structure, full of nooks and crannies….

 

…with pottery that sticks its tongue out at you…

 

…and skylights that cast a blue hue throughout the restaurant.

 

It’s family owned, been around forever, and has a separate dance floor with a retractable roof-just in case you’d really like to dance under the stars.

 

And of course-it makes these ginormous tortillas. They are thin, served warm and taste like the cast iron griddle they were cooked on. Biceps and I ordered an extra side of tortillas just to take back to our hotel room.

 

Los Olivos-you’ve done it again.

The Beaches, The Earthquakes, The Tornadoes-The Whole She-bang

Dear Readers:
Have you heard that Oklahoma keeps having earthquakes and tornadoes-simultaneously? Have you wondered, as I have, why this land-locked state is receiving not only the backhand from the nature, but the forward slap as well?
I think I may have the answer: I think it’s my fault.

While on tour, we stopped off in San Diego. One gray morning, Biceps and I walked to the beach with our hotel cup of coffee and enjoyed the ocean coming to shore.

 

Contemplation set in as to why Biceps and I chose to put down our roots in Okie-land, instead of a place such as this.

 

The ocean drew me to her and soon the cuffs of my pants were wet. Oklahoma and its dirty lakes came to mind. I tried to reassure myself with the choice of our hometown.

 

I made the comment that at least in Oklahoma we only have to worry about tornadoes while these San Diego-ans have to worry about hurricanes and earthquakes.
So, I think someone is setting the record straight for me that we are not exempt from another form of natural disasters.

 

Therefore, I believe it is my fault. I am so sorry to anyone that might be reading this that lives in Oklahoma. I am so sorry, Oklahoma as a state.
Love-Rebekah