Some final thoughts instead of photos because I accidentally left my camera at home this morning. All the photos I took are on someone else's camera and that's on its way to Eugene right now.

Screening Top Gun at a theater called the Baghdad while the city is filled with sailors and battleships are parked along the Waterfront? I guess that's pretty ballsy. Kudos to KUFO for hosting that late night screening on Friday. Oh, wait, I'm supposed to be talking about the parade here. Right...

I'm incredibly glad I didn't camp out for this. Heading down there after a half-night's sleep and spending around six hours on the parade route has left me feeling more or less jet-lagged. The 36 ounces of Starbucks sludge I consumed isn't helping. Even after a long afternoon nap my body feels like it's operating on Romanian time right now.

Last night I saw an older guy in a fedora sitting on a lawn chair alongside 4th Avenue with some camping equipment. As I was heading towards Broadway this morning he was still there reading a book. Could that have been ol' Doctor Henry Jones Jr.? Naw. Either way: tough old bastard.

The parade started at 10 but didn't begin passing our spot on Broadway until well after 11:30, not including the Grand Floral Walk. Grand total wait time: over 4 hours. The really swell part of all of this: we could have shown up five minutes before the parade rolled past and we would have still scored a decent spot.

Rose Festival Queen: 18 years old. Rose Festival King: at least 60. Hmmm....

This state has entirely too many rodeo queens. I'm pretty sure Oregon has more rodeo queens per-capita than any other state in the union. They. Just. Kept. Coming. And they all looked the same. I'm convinced that Salem might have snuck several of them in the parade. Another state surplus: high school marching bands.

A parade this long apparently needs numerous people to zoom around on riding lawn mowers to pick up horse doodie. Some of them were dressed in costumes. One pooper-scooper was suited-up in a Winnie the Pooh. Another was riding around in a Indiana Jones-themed mobile. The best of the lot: the Poop Princess and her parents, who will no doubt subject all of her upcoming boyfriends and husbands to photos of her dressed in a pink dress carrying a "Poop Princess" sign.

The Xtreme Cheerleaders? At least 67% xtreme.

The award for the Most Bored And Embarrassed-Looking Teenage Parade Participant goes to...one kid, about 14, wearing glasses, dressed in an oversized marching band uniform, carrying a banner for a local high school. Oh, wait, there were hundreds of those in today's parade, all likely thinking "I hate my parents for making me do this."

The Jack Sparrow float with the torches that light up with real fire? Neat.

Final verdict: The Grand Floral Parade needs more floats that spit dry ice smoke into the crowd. This year's parade only had one of those.

Am I glad I went? Sure. Are the other people that sat out there in the rain with me glad they went? Maybe. Will any of us get up early on a Saturday morning for a future Grand Floral Parade? I wouldn't bet on it.

Labels: Rose Festival, stupidity