Day 20. These boots were made for marching.

Don't you love a parade? Even in the days before the candy throwing and water gun fights (yes, we had water gun fights with people in the parades, until someone hit a veteran and the use of water guns was eliminated) 

I had always dreamed of marching in a parade. Having everyone waving at you while you performed seemed genuinely exciting to me. I think my sister Laurie followed along because she wanted to hang out and not be alone. I can't be certain - I'll have to ask her someday.

Chris from across the street had taught me how to twirl a baton and we used that in many of our shows for Severin and Mike. But that wasn't good enough. I wanted to wear the fancy uniform and stomp in the boots with fringes on them.

Kelly's mom and aunt (a fact I just learned from Kelly today) had started a precision marching team for kids. "The Royal Centavos", which was a younger version of the "Royal Bravados". Kelly and her sisters were part of the troupe. They went into competitions for the routines they would do and Kelly's bedroom had trophies and ribbons in it.

A quick side note here. As I mentioned before, my brother Gary was a strong competitor. He had trophies from swimming and football in his bedroom. My dad and mom would always be bragging about him to other parents and they attended special award banquets with him. I really wanted that, to be noticed and talked about. 

I thought that being a part of the troupe with Kelly may be the thing that would get me noticed. I day-dreamed about my family sitting on the side of the road cheering me on as our team walked past. I would be the baton lead as Kelly and the rest twirled riffles and marched behind. 

Kelly and Kris spent many afternoons teaching me and Laurie the routines. We would march up and down the street.  Step * Stomp * Kick * Stomp - I still remember the way they would begin their routine. It didn't matter how warm or late it was outside - we marched up and down the block over and over again perfecting the cadence.

At night I would practice my baton twirling - I didn't own a baton so I used whatever I could get my hands on that would work, broom sticks (sorry about the broken lamp), rulers, pencils - especially those long fat ones you bought as a souvenir from the Museum or Zoo. That was the best because it actually had a tassel on one end.

I became quite good at the twirling, the throwing in the air and catching - while walking - ummm - not so much.

A few weeks of us marching in the neighborhood passed and Kelly's mom invited us to go along to a practice. It was to be at the Oak Creek Armory, (I had no idea that someday that place would be part of the town I lived in). She wrote everything on a piece of paper and told me to give it to my parents so they would know.

"What?" came the response. "Carole, you would join a shit throwing group is there was one to join!" came the reply from my dad. Truth be told, I probably would - in fact when I first lived in the house my husband and I bought one of our neighbors was the cow chip champion and she showed me how it was done. It could have been a fun group to be part of.

Anyway - his outright 'no' answer didn't stop me. Laurie didn't know any better since I didn't tell her that we didn't have permission. Laurie would never have gone along with my plan, she didn't like breaking rules and she would be sure to rat me out, so I had to keep her in the dark.

On the day of the practice I took Laurie and told our mom we were going to Kelly's house to play. "Be home by 8" was the response. It was 6 o'clock now so I figured we had plenty of  time to jump in the car with Kelly's family, travel to Oak Creek - wherever that was - practice and be home in time. No one would be the wiser.

We got to Kelly's and waited while they packed all the supplies into the station wagon. At least I think it must have been a station wagon to hold everything. Kelly and her sister Kris had on their white fringe boots with taps on the bottom. Laurie and I would have to settle for our tennis shoes - we would purchase boots once we made the team.

I didn't really have a plan for explaining to my parents that we were now a part of a marching team and would need uniforms and white fringe boots. I figured they wouldn't be able to say 'no' to Laurie so to be fair they would have to say 'yes' to both. The details we could work out later.

At about 7pm we finally all were in the car and headed for the armory. Waiting on the black top were the rest of the group. After a few announcements we lined up and started practicing the routines. Step * Stomp * Kick * Stomp - Laurie and I were right in step. Kelly was a good teacher.

Then it came time to do other routines and we sat and watched while the group worked it out. Kelly had just started in the color guard so her routine was different than the rest. 

The sun was setting (it was summer so it must have been close to 8:30-9) at this point, and I was getting anxious. I knew the sun going down meant we were late. Laurie was oblivious to the fate that awaited us when we got home. 

The practice ended * hurry up *  there were more announcements * hurry up *  flags, rifles and boots were packed in the car * faster * and we headed home.

Imagine my surprise when we got back to Kelly's house and the police weren't there. I thought for sure my parents would have reported us missing by that point and Kelly's mom would have been arrested for kid napping.

I jumped out of the car, and dragging Laurie up the street waved good-bye. I tried to sneak in the back door, but the dogs gave us away. 

"Carole, Laurie?" came the yell. "Come in here".  

In the living room sat my father and mother, drinks in hand, cigarette smoke filling the room. 

"Where have you been?", you are two-hours late. "We were marching," - oh sure - the one time Laurie speaks up she immediately spills the beans. OK - to her defense she had no idea we didn't have permission.

The look I gave Laurie only slightly matched the angry stare I was getting from my dad. He knew he didn't give permission, and worse, he knew I knew he didn't give permission.

A lot of yelling and crying occurred with my being grounded for two weeks for lying. Laurie only got a week since she was, for the most part, innocent in the plan. Her punishment was due to not speaking up when she knew it was time to be home. 

In the years that followed I finally got my opportunity to march, although not in any kind of formations like "The Royal Centavos", and we mostly wore white deck shoes instead of fancy boots. 

Laurie and I were members of the American Legion Auxiliary - red beanies, blue and white striped

shirts, blue shorts, blue socks and white shoes. We would proudly march in the parades in Oak Creek for all the important holidays. Our group actually won a couple of Fourth of July parade awards for best youth group entry. I had taught our team some of the marches Kelly had shown me years ago and that helped us to stand out.

Later, I would march with the Oak Creek Community Theatre - sometimes in costume, sometimes with a float. One year we turned our garbage bin into a huge root beer float - we were pun-y like that, and won an honorable mention for best float.

Then as a cubmaster we marched for Pack 330. By then the need for awards was past and we just had a ton of fun with it. I still put the flags out front in my yard from the float we made after 911. My neighbor, Dave, who was in the Navy was our main focal point and he was heralded with cheers from the crowd as we passed.  

A couple of years ago I marched with the Pioneer Travel agency I belong to and handed out magnets to the people watching along the route.

But in all of my parades there just seemed to be something missing. I never got to use my baton twirling skills and most importantly, I still didn't have fancy boots.