Last Night
Last Night
Last-last night on the way to the Seafair Parade I night took my favorite route into downtown Seattle, the treacherously steep Yesler Way, which didn't disappoint:
But here's the thing: I'm not a Seattle native and I don't get Seafair. What are we celebrating, again? Even though I have been living in Seattle going on 20 years, Seafair still feels like an alien invasion. But front row parade seats on the top floor of the Tashiro Kaplan building were too enticing.
Crossing the bridge over 4th, just in time to see the big puffy pirate float face plant:
Paraders show up from far and wide---here's what the Tullalip Casino threw together:
But for me, the highlight of the parade was the plain and simple Vern Fonk Insurance fire engine:
And I'm only half joking. Because it's reassuring to see that plenty of local color still survives in a event that is officially branded the Alaska Airlines Torchlight Parade. Though our culture continues to move inexorably toward David Foster Wallace's Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment , at least we're not all the way there---yet.
Post-parade and on the way back up Yesler, inspiring, as always, to see major streets taken over by pedestrians, for whatever reason:
Seattle's late night hot dog cart vendors are my heroes.
But here's the thing: I'm not a Seattle native and I don't get Seafair. What are we celebrating, again? Even though I have been living in Seattle going on 20 years, Seafair still feels like an alien invasion. But front row parade seats on the top floor of the Tashiro Kaplan building were too enticing.
Crossing the bridge over 4th, just in time to see the big puffy pirate float face plant:
Paraders show up from far and wide---here's what the Tullalip Casino threw together:
But for me, the highlight of the parade was the plain and simple Vern Fonk Insurance fire engine:
And I'm only half joking. Because it's reassuring to see that plenty of local color still survives in a event that is officially branded the Alaska Airlines Torchlight Parade. Though our culture continues to move inexorably toward David Foster Wallace's Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment , at least we're not all the way there---yet.
Post-parade and on the way back up Yesler, inspiring, as always, to see major streets taken over by pedestrians, for whatever reason:
Seattle's late night hot dog cart vendors are my heroes.
