It was a beautiful day for a parade this past Saturday. The American Royal Parade rolled down the street and it was great to see so many of you out for the fun. I have trouble just riding in the truck or the back of the convertible and waving. For one thing, many of you have terrific aim and powerful throwing arms, so just being a moving target doesn't guarantee I won't end up wearing a vegetable stand by the end of the route. Mostly, it just feels little too hoity-toity. So, I tend to jump out of the vehicle now and then to cause trouble along the street. This year, some of the mayhem involved candid photos, stolen hats, and a bear-hug from Kansas City icon, Carl DiCapo.

The first parade I was ever invited to ride in after moving here a hundred years ago, was for the Liberty Fall Festival. I sat on the back of a little MG convertible while my wife was in the passenger seat and first-born son...about six weeks old...slept in his car-seat wedged between us. Some things never change: he can still sleep like a log in the car. But, some things do: for this parade, he was out of town...looking at potential colleges. Time flys away.

One year, we were lucky enough, as a family, to ride in an Independence Day Parade in, appropriately, Independence. My oldest son, the aforementioned Rip Van (or car) Winkle, and my daughter were very happy to wave and greet their "fans." Our second son wanted nothing to do with it and slumped as far into the back seat of the car as possible. It was at that parade that future Attorney General John Ashcroft was making the rounds in one of his Senate campaigns. He smiled a friendly smile and shook my wife's hand heartily, patted the kids on their little heads, then, took one look at me and tossed a blue sheet over my head. Years later, after the Department of Justice nude statues situation, I understood that Mr. Ashcroft found my face offensive.

There was another parade in a very small town some years ago. We could see the end of the route from where we started. But, though the parade pathway was a little short, the crowd was long on enthusiasm. It was very much like a scene out of The Andy Griffith Show. Which would make me Ernest T. Bass. Not long after that, I was part of a Holiday Parade in Carrollton, Missouri. The square looked festive and everyone was in high spirits. My wife and I had both older boys with us and, in a way, it was our daughter's first parade. She was due about a month later but started to make her impatience known during the parade. My wife said it felt like she was already trying wave at everybody. Samantha did make her grand arrival just a couple weeks later. Making it the first, and nearly last, time she's been early for anything.

These days, for understandable safety reasons, many parade organizers prohibit throwing candy to kids on the curb. However, a few parades ago, we were still allowed to toss goodies from the parade route. At one point, I got out of the vehicle to visit with a family wearing funny hats. As I approached, the mom lifted her four year old up to eye-level and said "Look who's here, Bobby (names have been changed to protect the innocent)? You know who this is, don't you?" The little boy was so excited to meet me! It was overwhelming! "Well, Bobby, who is this?" "The guy with the candy!" Unfortunately, I had run out of or eaten all the candy by that point in the parade and apologized to Bobby. He crinkled his forehead, looked me right in the eye and said "Well, get back in your car, then."