The Rose Parade.

It was a beautiful rainy day, time for the annual Rose Parade, and this year we were determined to participate. We put on our finest parade clothes and rode down to the route, where we found the streets too clogged with onlookers to butt in. When we did find a gap in the crowd and parked our bikes to investigate, we also found suspicious cops who asked us what we were doing before recommending that we move the bikes farther away.

Undaunted, we rode downtown to a later point in the route and waited. When we saw a gap in the parade, we joined in, right behind the scooter-riding Cub Scouts shoveling up horseshit. We had a swell time for about three miles, smiling and waving to the crowd, who smiled and waved back. Parade cops looked at us with puzzled expressions, but they weren't sure whether we belonged there or not. Eventually, however, someone must have radioed Parade High Command and found out that we weren't in conformance with the scheduled display. We turned a corner to find a line of foot and bike cops blocking the route. They told us that there was to be "no Critical Mass on the parade, guys." It might have been fun to get taken down during the Rose Parade, in front of thousands of people, but we just got off of our bikes when they told us to. We rode off, glad that we weren't rotting in a small town jail cell for parading without a permit until a drunk ACLU lawyer got us out.

We rode around downtown for a while, only to find that we attracted a police escort wherever we went. They herded us around a little and told us to obey the laws of the road at all times, which was amusing because we were on our best behavior and had been all day.

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Copyright 2003 Megulon Five <>. Creative Commons License This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License. Last modified 8 August 2001.