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2003-02-28 - 2:34 p.m. I no longer go to parades. I used to enjoy it but now I frankly just don't care. I have become a Mardi Gras Scrooge. I've been in all the crowd scenes I ever want to be in. So I didn't attend the Eve parade on Monday where supposedly some crazed drunk driver drove into the crowd and got shot up by cops, causing me to miss the most excitement in Mandeville in years. The last thing I need is more excitement. There is another parade tonight, and I'm definitely keeping my head down. Some people go skiing to get away from Mardi Gras but I've always been a ski scrooge. Bah humbug. Let's fly down a mountain so fast we can't see the wildlife and maybe twist an ankle while we're at it. Oh yeah, that sounds like fun. Wheee! I'm surprised at the depth of reaction to the death of Mr. Rogers. I see a diary entry like this one from floodtide, and, I'm going, whoa, wait a minute, he saw these programs as a kid? It really brings home the point about how time compression affects adults. I'm 44, and I think he's 40, so I'm reading merrily along picturing someone only a tad younger than me. Ha. That four years was an eternity when we were children. My brother is four years younger. I wonder if he ever watched any of these educational programs, but I frankly just can't picture it. The first I ever heard of Sesame Street and all the rest was when I was already working as a babysitter and some parents told me to make the kids watch that station. Hell, we didn't even have a color TV until I was in 5th grade or so. TV for kids was some cartoons on Saturday so that the parents could sleep late on their day off. So...a whole revolution in the way children are raised or marketed to or whatever, all in a few years' time. Hummingbird report: At least one adult female Ruby-Throated Hummingbird.
All Rights Reserved, Copyright 2002-2017 by Elaine Radford
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