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The Ramblings of a Redneck Diva
Saturday, December 4, 2004
One Voice
Topic: Rambling much
Well, my voice is back, but for who knows how long. It's kinda of been here in and out all day, but I've been able to speak for about 7 hours now. It's pretty scratchy, though, and when I talk a lot it starts to fade. Why, I haven't a clue. Dad said he really didn't think the makeup allergy had anything to do with the voice losing, but he also said stranger things had happened. Both can be due to histamine reactions, so they could be linked.

*sigh*

We went to the Christmas parade in town. Jim, my surrogate father of sorts, told me I was going to be one really cranky old lady. I dubbed myself the official "Parade Bitch". No one actually thought I'd do anything about the people standing in front of the children and the old folks sitting in their cars, but enough was enough finally. I made my kids stand on the curb where you are SUPPOSED to stand - not out in the middle of the freaking STREET. So of course, my kids couldn't see. Plus there was a carload of elderly folks sitting there helpless not able to see anything because the crowd that had edged out into the street had also edged over in front of them. Finally I had HAD it. I walked straight up to a crowd of people and kindly asked them to move so the folks in their car and all the short CHILDREN (who are more excited about the parade than the adults, ya know?) could see. I had to do it several times and I got some nasty looks, but geez. I even told Jim I was going to write a letter to the editor, too. He really laughed. That was when he told me I was going to stress myself into a heart attack before 50 and I was going to be a really cranky old person. Heh. Oh well. My kids were there for the parade, I personally couldn't care less about a parade. I go because my kids love it and I like watching them light up. If I can't see, good grief, I'm not going to lose sleep. But if they can't see, you can bet the mother bear in me is coming out of hibernation. Why is it that after about 10 floats go by the crowd is suddenly in the middle of the freaking ROAD???? No kidding! I looked down the street at one point and I guarantee you that my family was standing a good 6 feet behind the rest of the crowd. We were standing on the sidewalk. They were in the street. Bands were walking on toes, dudes dressed up as Cherry Limeades from the Sonic were tripping over people, horses were nearly trampling children, but did the crowd take the hint? Good heavens, no they might miss something.

We ended up moving from our original spot. I stood there about the crawl out of my skin for as long as I could. I know I'm going to sound like the world's biggest snob when I say this, but I'm really not. I hope you understand what I say. All around us were mullet-wearing, acid-washed jeans-wearing, greasy headed rednecks screaming at their kids between puffs on their cigarettes, WHICH they were smoking right in the middle of a crowd of people. (Don't get me wrong, I have nothing wrong with smoking, have been known to do it myself on occasion, but I also know where it is appropriate) I watched in horror as a mom squatted down to adjust her son's sock hat and blew smoke in his face. I also watched that same child sit on the curb and play in the mud and his mom screamed at him over and over and over and over (LOgan! Logan! Get OUT OF THAT MUD! Logan are you in the mud again?! Boy, get OUT of that mud. Logan don't make me come over there and get you, Logan!)and finally I was just about to say "Ya wanna lemme have a go at him? I bet if I bust him on the rear he'll quit that ya know." Agh! The chairman of Rednecks International was selling light-up fiber optic pacifers and baby bottles you could hang around your neck. "Complete with break-away necklace for your child's safety!" I heard the vendor say. The folks around me were swarming for 'em. And not just the kids. Sam turned around I know to ask for one and he opened his mouth and I raised one eyebrow at him and he said "I guess I won't ask for one, huh?" I finally could take no more. I turned to Paul, nodded for him to bend down where I could speak into his ear without making the crowd around me aware I was having a panic attack because of them and I said, "Husband, I am standing in the middle of my worst nightmare right now. It's a freaking redneck convention and I forgot my membership card. If you don't get me away from here right now I will scream. And quite loudly." He looked at me and said, "Hmh, well I think we should move then." And I know that when he turned to lead us to a new standing place he was rolling his eyes and smirking, but frankly all I cared about was moving far far away from the spot I had been in. At that particular moment he was my hero, my savior, he was the freaking BOMB. But later that changed and he was back to being the redneck I married. But at least he didn't have a freaking light-up pacifier around his neck NOR did he even attempt to buy them for our children. I gotta give him credit there.

The Diva has spoken at 10:28 PM CST
Updated: Monday, December 6, 2004 3:31 PM CST

Sunday, December 5, 2004 - 2:54 PM CST

Name: Stacie

Girl, you took the words right OUT of my mouth! I was a good girl and stayed on the curb like they asked us to and I kept yelling out "I COULD SEE IF THAT MELLON HEAD WOULD MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!" Then this other guy got right smack in front of me, out of spite I'm sure, because the jerk literally turned around and looked at me with this stupid smirk on his face and he didn't move for the rest of the parade. I was disapointed that no bands were 150 members big so they could march by and smash the heck out HIS mellon head with either a cymbol crash or a tuba. Maybe a trombone or even a bass drum. I could have easily plowed through those two jerks with a bass drum had some hapless band member given me the opportunity and loaned me their drum. Grrrr...
Oh, and by the way, did you see Shael? She was on the Wyandotte Girl Scout float. With her pasted on grin and her royalty wave shouting out "Merry Christmas" with her bashful voice.

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