About halfway through her conversation with the woman next to her, I finally take notice of the logo emblazoned on the red wool of her jacket. For a sunny Saturday, she is sure dressed warm for the parade.
“Probably going to be the coldest one on record for sure,” someone tweeted Saturday morning.
Sometimes I forget where I am.
Ron Howard leads the parade not far from where I stood, and the woman shifts forward in her lawn chair to get a better view. She clutches a child and they point down Olive Avenue toward the procession — giant letters spelling B-U-R-B-A-N-K are pushed along by military service members who could be in a lot of other places this day, but smile at their fortune to brave a slight chill.
I took a picture of this mother and son, which you can see at www.the818now.com. I want to remember the yellow crown logo on her fiery red jacket. It proclaims her affiliation with The Road Kings, a hot-rod club that is more than 50 years old. Beneath the crown, in letters just as bright, “BURBANK.”