On the being of "That guy"

The Armorer of Argghhh! (the fuzzy one in the silly hat) and Chuck Z of "From my position, On the Way!" in the Castle Technical in the 2009 Leavenworth Veteran's Day Parade. Photo courtesy Karel S.

Small town parades are the best.  The crowds are closer to the parade itself, you're more likely to know people in the crowd, and as long as you aren't a part of a performance group like a band, you can talk to spectators.

Like when I saw my contractor and shouted "Where are my windows!?!" at him, and he said they weren't ready yet at the manufactory.  Mind you - they guy's been hunting out west for a while - figures the only time I could reach him was at a parade...

We had over 160 entries in the Leavenworth Veteran's Day Parade yesterday - including the Castle Technical, which was providing security for the Rotary Wheel against those dam'd Lions... ya gotta keep an eye on them fellers.  We don't worry about the Kiwanians.  They're so laid back they just sit in lawn chairs and watch the parade.  We're the oldest and largest Veteran's Day observance west of the Mississippi, so they say.  If so, that doesn't say much for large cities out west of us, when our little burg of 30k or so people outshines them on what used to be a pretty big day.  Emphasis on usetabe, I guess.   The parade is sponsored by the local American Legion posts.

Sitting there in the line-up waiting for my march serial to step off, I met a lot of people who think old jeeps are cool, and military jeeps even more so.  And a fair number who reminisced about driving 'em, riding in 'em, fixing 'em, and a disturbing number - wrecking them.

Such as the story from the guy who admitted to forgetting to secure the hood hold-downs - more than once.  I gave him a cartoon-style double-take.  "More than once?  The first time the hood flipped up driving at 40 mph wasn't a sufficiently emotional event that  you forgot *again*?"

"Yep.  After the second time going into the ditch, I never forgot again.  The XO found a new driver though..."

I imagine. 

And a lot of people thought the Browning M1919A4 I had mounted was a .50 caliber machine gun.  Maybe next year I'll borrow my buddy's semi-auto M2 and mount it - just so people can see the difference, though in truth I'm leaning towards mounting the M18 recoilless rifle and going as an anti-tank jeep...

The parade started at 10:30 AM.  At 11AM there was a pause as buglers strategically placed along the route played Taps, then two Air Guard F-16s did a flyby.  About 11:15 or so my serial started off.  We were march unit 154, near the end of the parade.  By the time we started out, the lead elements of the parade were taking a nap after having gone home and had lunch...

So, there I am, coasting down 4th Street when a guy steps out of the crowd and takes a picture - Chuck Z.  I wave him on into the jeep, and Chuck joins me as we go through the parade.  Kewl.

Note to self: Try to not be in front of the marching band in a parade if you're a deaf-ish guy trying to talk to your cargo.  Marching bands are... loud.

Chuck allows that instead of going to the pancake breakfast we Rotarians put on as a fundraiser (disabled vets eat free - 33 of them yesterday) he'd been out buying flowers for Carren.  I asked what the occasion was and he laughed and said, "That's what Carren said, "What have you done now that I don't know about?""  Snerk.  I replied, "That's just your hole card for a hand not yet dealt, eh?"

We're shooting the breeze, waving like royalty, snarking on people we knew. Chuck, being a student in the CGSC knew a lot of people in the crowd, who were surprised (and delighted) to see him in the parade. Especially his jeep-o-phile next door neighbor who was very impressed Chuck was in an armed jeep.

Of course, that's why I got the jeep.  To be "that guy."  The one in the vehicle that other guys like you are staring at, turning their heads to their neighbor and saying, "Did you see the jeep that guy had?"

There were a lot of those looks yesterday.  Enough so that even Chuck was noticing them and pointing them out.  Those wistful looks that are easy to read... "I wish I was that guy..."  The looks on those faces made every dollar spent on that jeep thus far worth it.  I'm such a juvenile.

We turn the corner onto Shawnee for the last leg - and there's Carren on the sidewalk.  Yelling at us.  "Chuck!  Where's your SON!?!?"  Apparently, when I hijacked him into the jeep, he was supposed to be policing up his son from the Cub Scout march serial.

I looked at Chuck and said, "Wow.  That hole card didn't last long, did it?"

Chuck wasn't worried.  Unlike the Army, Cub Scouts have adult supervision.

We reach the release point and clear the route - and as we turn the corner, Chuck says, "See?  There he is, right where he should be!"  Chuck un-assed the jeep at that point and headed over to the rally point to pick up his Cub Scout.

All in all, a very good day, and good debut for the Castle Technical.