‘A horse walks into a bar …’

by Susan Anderson
Tuesday, July 15, 2008 1:54 PM MDT

Here’s my advice -- don’t ever, ever miss Parade Day in Casper.

When I first moved to Casper in the ’80s, it took me a few years to figure out that Parade Day was to Casper what St. Patrick’s Day had been when I lived in New York.

There’s just no point in trying to get any work done, and why would you want to?

My first clue about this after moving here was the day in July when everybody at work mysteriously turned up in western clothes on a Tuesday, and then disappeared for the day.

Not me, of course, because someone had to be there to do the radio newscast.

It’s one of the sobering facts about being on radio, that when the on-air light goes on, if you don’t say something there’s silence going out over 50,000 watts.

That live radio prospect feels just the way Dr. Samuel Johnson described hanging 200 years ago n it “concentrates the mind wonderfully.”

Candy! Candy!

I began to get the idea about Parade Day when I first saw the historic photo of a horse and rider being served refreshments when the horse sidled up to the bar inside the Wonder Bar. Someone even re-enacted that famous horse-gets-a-beer photo just recently.

But even if horses didn’t enter bars and people play hooky, the parade just brings out something in Casper, or maybe everything in Casper.

I’ll start with the onlookers. The kids were the most dramatic, standing in the street chanting “candy, candy.” It didn’t matter that the candy was mostly just a small piece of bubble gum or hard candy -- they were thrilled to have it thrown their way by clowns, politicians and cowgirls.

It wasn’t fancy, but it was free. And you only got it by being alert and fast on your feet, willing to grab if necessary.

But all of the generations were represented, including many elderly people who long ago figured out how watch a parade.

They knew the perfect places on the route to plant their lawn chairs with umbrellas and drink iced drinks from the coolers they were smart enough to bring.

Winners with glue sticks

Then there are the participants. Because it’s not really a very commercial deal, the entrants are pretty happily homemade.

One year when my son Danny was attending the YMCA camp, the Y’s space shuttle composed of Kleenex glued to cardboard won first place.

I like it when 8-year-olds with glue sticks prevail over large corporations with trucks.

This year, there were new entries. One was the plain truck with hand-lettered signs driven by the man with a crusade to unseat all the judges.

He paid his money, and he got to join the parade along with senators and marching bands.

Also unusual was what looked like a parade of prom dresses. A local retailer had a marching bevy of beauties wearing the vintage (or just used) dresses sold at the store.

There were all of the dresses you remember from high school, displayed on ordinary women, who clearly were getting a kick out of being queens for a day.

The gymnastics girls are a traditional element, and every year they amaze me by fearlessly doing cartwheels around the droppings left by the horses in front of them.

The Casper Troopers, the City Band, horses painted with glitter, armed service veterans and big, loud fire trucks with firefighters -- what more could you want?

It was perfect. And it wasn’t even hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk.

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