Is there anything better than a hometown parade? Not if you ask me.
My home town of Niskayuna, New York celebrates its founding every year in the quintessential style of small town America. A throw-back, someone with want for nostalgia might say.
Yes, I speak of Niska-Day. Barbecues, neighbors, block parties, potato salad, water balloons, radios, pie. The smell of hot mud in the sun, craft vendors, filtered light through white circus tents. Goldfish in plastic bags. Highschoolers in polyester tuxedos on a flat-bed stage singing show tunes (I was one). Grade-school art, matted, on display. Fireworks, sparklers. Family. Home. Children on the verge of catch a glimpse of freedom, community comes together, wanderers are drawn back.
All this magic ushers in summer each May, but stays with me all season long.
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