Today is an historic day for God.
Despite all the unfaithful prayers of the tv producers, event organizers and floral sculpturalists, the Tournament of Roses Parade in Pasadena, California was rained out.
Each year, the rest of the world, blanketed in crummy, winter weather, huddles in front of their television sets watching in jealous disbelief as the floats, bands, and horses strut down Colorado Boulevard under a canopy of 80 degree sun. For 51 years the sun has shined on this parade tradition. For 51 years, the event organizers have proudly and superstitiously touted their "deal with God" as the reason for the balmy weather. The deal is, if New Years Day falls on a Sunday, they hold the parade on the following Monday. In return, God is expected hold back the rain on parade day. It seems like a pretty good deal if you ask me.
That is, if God isn't God.
The seeds ran off the faces of float fairies, the bands dripped "76 Trombones", the clydesdales matted ankle fur mopped up gutter water, and Bob Eubanks kept up the smily voice.
And Yahweh refused to be corraled.
2 comments:
...and some lady, somewhere, is trying to remember why she wore white stretch pants to the parade. Mysterious ways, my friend.
Welcome to the blog-o-sphere, my friend.
Post a Comment