OH! HOW I HATE A PARADE!

Years ago, as a little lad, Mom would feed me cream cheese and jelly on white bread, for lunch. Every day I would get cream cheese and jelly. This kept me quiet until dinner. As Mom got wiser, she suddenly switched to peanut butter and jelly. She realized the sheer economics of peanut butter in a jar and its costs as opposed to cream cheese in a package that needed refrigeration, and the fact that peanut butter gave you more sandwiches per jar than cream cheese in a package.

Then one day, I got terribly ill with a stomach virus! Yes, while eating peanut butter! I was so ill, I swore to myself that I would never eat peanut butter again!

As life worn on, eating peppers and eggs or potatoes and eggs on Italian bread for lunch became a norm, as did ham and cheese, baloney or salami. Meanwhile, my little sisters were emerging as paraders! Yes, they were parading around the streets of Long island, in fancy uniforms and playing or flinging instruments about, to nobodies business. They belonged to a school band, one was a majorette, and one played a clarinet. At this time, I was in college, studying to become an artist, and taking a course in photography. Mom and Dad went out and purchased me a camera, a 35mm Tower from Sears, and there was a price to pay for their largesse. I had to shoot pictures of the parades!

Every time there was a parade, I had to go and follow it along its route, and shoot. You might say I was a routing shooting toting photographer. After a day of shooting, one eye would remain closed for the day; from the sheer muscle tension of holding it closed! I think it was similar to tennis elbow; only I called it photographer’s eye.

Finally, I finished my course in photography, and laid down the camera, right in the middle of a St. Patrick’s Day parade at the intersection of the four corners in Patchogue! I went home and ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich!

Upon arriving home, my parents were furious, and as my two little sisters line up to eagerly watch my demise, they all found me in the bathroom, my head deep into the toilet, tossing up the peanut butter.

Dad looked at Mom and said: “I guess he went to one parade too many!” Mom agreed, and my little sisters walked away disappointed.

Please remember my brother-in-law John, and all those that need our prayers.