life:: i have succumbed to peer pressure

All my bad-assy friends are gun-toting maniacs.

I can now be counted among them.

Well would you look at that? There goes one now…in a parade nonetheless.  More on the parade in a minute.

All in the name of self-defense, I got my concealed carry permit.


Yeah right, about that…

Don’t get me wrong, I actually like to shoot.  At a target.  In my backyard.  And only the circle targets, not those innocent animal kind, or the people silhouette ones either.  Maybe a soda can, or a bowling pin, or even the occasional metal sign, but not Bambi, or even a gopher target.  Ain’t happenin’.  I’m a lover not a fighter…just sayin’.

I have been telling the Frankster aw hell no for years.  I don’t need my own gun, let alone a cute little girly one that fits in my purse.  He begs to differ.

Peer pressure…1.  Me and my stubborn attitude…zero.

What does this all have to do with a parade you ask?  Well, pretty much nothing.  And everything.  But not in a grassy-knoll kind of way, just peer pressure.  Yeesh, I’m a little crazy, but not that kind of crazy.

Ya see in this little burg I live near, the entire town fills the streets for the high school homecoming parade.  I have never in my life witnessed such a thing.  Until I moved here, homecoming was just a football game, just a dance, just another high school rite of passage weekend.  Not here.  These homecoming hicks people start setting up chairs and food stands at o-dark-thirty on the town square for THE EVENT OF THE YEAR.

This is 2 whole hours before parade time. Really?

Businesses close down, there are beer gardens set up on nearly every corner, school is let out early for all grades.  When we moved here and my child was a mere kindergartener, I could only wonder why the hell were 5 year olds let out of school for the high school’s homecoming?

I get it now.  After the parade, while I am secluded safely away at my retreat in the country (home), they (the adults of this little burg),  will then commence the drinking of beer, the watching of football, and debauchery in the streets late into the night.  It’s like Podunk Mardi Gras.

I have always rebelled.  I’ve never worked on a float for 3 weeks in advance of the big day.  I’ve never volunteered to make costumes or loaned out my tractor.  I haven’t cooked until the wee hours the day before to set up a bake sale. Every year I have complained about needing to leave work early to pick up my child from school and grumbled profusely about these hicks trying to teach my baby to party like an over-grown teen at waaay too early of an age.  Bottom line, I have been a conscientious objector.

the junior high band…aren’t they just adorable being all musical and stuff?

Let’s be honest, I was missing out.

Today was the annual pilgrimage for those homecoming hicks (as I so lovingly call them).

I now work in town, and in a building on the parade route.  They let us out of work early, and everyone was abuzz with parade chatter.  When in Rome…

I particularly enjoyed the blue tape. Stay classy G-town…

 I went to the parade.  And I liked it.  There, I said it out loud.  I was wrong, and I liked it.

That’s another one of my bad-assy friends who just happens to be the high school principal.

I saw several of my bad-assy friends, I laughed, I had street meat.  I might add that I also left after the 1st hour of the parade.  Yes, it lasts for over 2 hours.  I have my limits people.

So I have now succumbed to peer pressure on 2 counts.

Now I just need to find the secret to making peer pressure work for me.  Come on, everybody’s doing it…be a hooker for me, please?  I keep telling my guys they need to learn how to crochet.  That way when I get tired of a project or it’s going too slow, I can con them into taking up a hook and getting to work.  That would come in really handy about now because I only have 7 (!) days left till my craft show.

Yeah right, about that…not gonna happen.

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madly, passionately in love with yarn

6 thoughts on “life:: i have succumbed to peer pressure”

  1. I can empathize with you. We moved from suburban Chicago to southwestern IL 13 yrs ago. Down here there are TOWN homecoming celebrations AND the high school homecoming. So there are 2 parades. In the town homecoming is a whole section of vintage tractors! Never in my life had I seen that before. I will say that I have NOT succommed to the gun toting and doubt that I ever will. I’ve never shot any type, although my husband does.


    1. Culture shock isn’t it? I shouldn’t be dazed and confused being a big city girl and all, and yet strangely I am…I also learned today that this is their “Reunion Weekend” and that’s part of what makes it such a big deal. Along with the current student homecoming, the drunken debauchery is an all school, every year reunion. Go figure. I’ve lived outside the big city for 20 years now but I really couldn’t imagine TWO WHOLE parades – bless you woman for surviving it 🙂


    1. Not to worry. I will still rock the craft show, and I am still working furiously at creating stuff for next weekend. I suppose I should have clarified it, I meant that getting my guys to help me get ready, or learn to crochet isn’t going to happen. I keep trying to be sweetly persuasive, but it’s not working at all. They just shake their heads and roll their eyes when I try. I really suck at putting on the peer pressure. 🙂 (ps ~ hope your market today is FAB!)


      1. Oh I see now. Well, Rob asked me to teach him to crochet the other night – and after 5 minutes, just before we both lost any scrap of patience, I reminded him why neither of us ever managed to teach our children to drive. You hire a driving instructor and stay the hell away. 🙂


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