We completely lost our minds and ventured into the Southie Parade in yesterday's wet drizzle. But with P and Maria’s place being just steps away from the parade route (i.e, shelter, bathrooms and refreshments), it made for a pleasant rainy afternoon in SoBo. Even better, while we gawked on Broadway, Margaret Mary K. boiled up a corned beef and cabbage feast, sipping her annual Bailey’s on the rocks (this resulted in some foot stomping and a self-imposed walk to Dunkin Donuts for “fresh air” later in the day.) At the parade, we found a decent spot among the green throngs where we sidled up alongside the Comcast TV cameras. Here, the parade halted from time to time with step dancers and marching bands and -- inexplicably -- a flatbed truck blaring Sean Kingston tunes. (Aside: Paulie is a big fan of horses, but not so much of the tuba.) Candy was thrown from the Buicks of local octogenarians and mardi gras beads were tossed out by troops just back from Iraq. The kids caught rubber balls and plastic parachutemen and 11 coupons to the new Sam Adams Brewhouse. Of course, all of this swag was even more fun than the $15 inflatables purchased from the parade vendor/rapist. Then, just when Paulie had turned the corner with regard to the tubas, the MF Lexington Minutemen started shooting off their muskets like Yosemite Sam and we had to bail. We headed back to the house and indulged in a delectable CB & C dinner and C&P sideshow. Then we grabbed some Irish soda bread and chocolate-dipped strawberries and watched the secondary parade of reveling paddies file past the window, pausing now and again to dry heave behind Amrheins.
But, it gets better....No words necessary, just wait for it and absorb the awesomeness. Slainte!