Small Wonders: That's all of us on parade

When you wake up on a Saturday morning and walk out your front door to find Revolutionary War soldiers, cowgirls, men in top hats and tails, ladies with lampshades on their heads and the White Rabbit on horseback idly mingling on your normally quiet street, you can be sure that one of two things is going on:

You had a little too much “Drink Me” potion last night.

Or Burbank is on parade.

Thankfully, I haven't been able to squeeze down the rabbit hole for some time, so it was definitely the latter.

And, I might add, the best parade ever.

I grew up going to the Days of Verdugo parade in Glendale and wandering Colorado Boulevard in Pasadena on New Year’s Eve. And I’ll be honest with you. I hated it. My most memorable parade was the Rose Parade a few years ago that was struck by a hurricane. I am a Grinch when it comes to parades.

But the annual Burbank on Parade has converted me. And this year being Burbank’s centennial celebration, there was even more reason to chase away my clouds.

Our block is the horse staging area. While neighboring streets get Girl Scouts and marching bands and classic cars, we get fertilizer. But we don’t mind, because there is something wonderful about this day that I can’t really describe; something that fills me with more giddy excitement than the prospect of “Toddlers and Tiaras” being taken off the air.

It's not brought to you by Walmart, or sponsored by Coca-Cola. You don’t have to sleep on the sidewalk overnight, fight through sardine-like crowds or spend a fortune on bleacher seats. It’s not about winning a trophy for best use of a daffodil.

It’s about something so much more important.

And from our prime spot on the sunny side of Olive Avenue, on the kind of spring day that reminds you why people move to Los Angeles, with cool breezes and crystal views, we saw it.

Burbank son Opie riding on the back seat of a convertible Camaro; a celebrity so far removed from the rest of us, yet so very much one of us today.

Our mayor, City Council and state representatives out from behind the desk, dais and microphone, within earshot and taking our applause and our good-natured heckles with grace and good cheer. Just doing their duty as public servants by getting out among the people, but somehow I have to believe this particular service is something they don’t mind.