My wife, Laura, and I first met as classmates in the CBRN school, which you may have read about… But before we became romantically involved, we would join other students on outings to such thriving Missouri metropolises as Lake Ozark, St. Robert, or Lebanon.

One weekend in mid-March, the Sergeant in charge of our weekend activity briefing took a moment to hype up a local St. Patrick's Day parade. Rolla Missouri didn’t even have 20,000 residents, but the city boasted the 3rd largest Parade in Missouri!

Being a Midwesterner I knew exactly what this parade would entail before we even went: The deputy mayor out front waving from the back seat of a leased Corvette convertible, Shriners in their tiny cars, and midway through we would see the pageant queen holding the blue ribbon nanny-goat in the flatbed of “Tom’s Lawncare’s” newest truck. The rest of the parade would be fleshed out by BOTH high school’s marching bands and a bunch of volunteers wearing green.

Before I could ask Laura if she wanted to go to the parade, she asked me. Of course I accepted! Who wouldn’t want to get away from this miserable little fort to go eat some fritters and drink green beer?! She said she LOVED parades.

At her insistence, we got to the parade an hour before the start time. We hit up a few local vendors and she is jumping with excitement… and cold... I ended up buying my future wife an overpriced and obnoxiously green hoodie, to go with her sweatpants, because she was born on a supertropical island nation and could not dress warm enough for Rolla’s windy mid-30s morning.

I notice her enthusiasm sharply waning as we approach start time. She asks when we’ll be able to see the balloons and floats. I laugh and point down the road to the mayor’s car, “I think it's started.” I say.

We stand, wave, and clap as the procession rolls down the street. The grainy street speakers blasting the tinny compressed “parade song” you hear at every parade. After about 5 minutes of shivering she lets out a huge sigh as “Milton’s Pesticide and Rodent Removal” truck passes our corner.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“I thought there would be more than this…”

*laughs* “The sergeant warned us this was the 3rd largest in Missouri. What did you expect?”

“Yea..” she shrugged and pulled her new hoodie tighter. “The last parade I went to was a lot better…”

“What parade was that?” I asked, genuinely intrigued…

“Well the cadet corps (at her old school) got to march IN President Obama’s inauguration parade. I was hoping they’d be a bit more alike…”