Each year, the La Costa Canyon High School Maverick Brigade marches the Encinitas Holiday parade. We all put on our uniforms, decorate our instruments and off we march down the 101 and play Santa Meets Sousa and enjoy ourselves as our baton twirler Kelly, twirls fire. Seems enjoyable right? A perfect experience? Wrong. Dead wrong. I’ve factored out the cold weather for us Southern California residents, the rain occasionally and the humiliation of a horrible performance by the Color Guard. I’m sure you all enjoy seeing us march up and down the street in our “dolly parton’s” or show uniforms spinning flags or holding LCC letters. Yet, this is the one time of year I hate.
My freshman year we wore our show uniforms which looked like Shamu. They were supposed to be masks because our show was entitled Music of the Night based off Phantom of the Opera but it didn’t turn out that way at all. There were nine of us all together and our coach at that time thought that you could fit five in the front and four in the back while spinning six foot flags. He was obviously wrong. I was placed at the end which was a mistake right there. If I had moved my flag at all, I would have hit either the person next to me each and every time along with all the people in the crowd. So I held it. I then called yelled at for not performing. It was something that I believed I was right in. And I was.
Sophomore year we were in our dolly parton uniforms which were old school baton uniforms. They were modest at best, came all the way up to our necks, like turtle necks without sleeves. They were forest green with a stripe of white. The skirt was forest green as well. They wouldn’t be the dolly partons without the gold sequin edges on everything. My captains, Sam, Liz and I wore these as we were the only ones left of those first nine. We held LCC letters on wooden dowels. Our letters were made out of Styrofoam, supported with sheets of cardboard and painted green and gold. Due to the cold, we had white long sleeve shirts on underneath, thermal tights and at least five pairs of socks stuffed into our cowboy boots. It was quite an experience. If I had to claim having fun at any of these, I would pick this one.
Junior year (this year) the five of us made presents. It was a three week long process of collecting the boxes, taping them together with extra supports, and then cutting out head and arm holes. We also were spinning giant candy canes. This took five people, two guard members, our band director, Ms. Mattison, and two members from the drumline. They cut PVC pipes that we had in the guard room into six pieces around the same height. They then taped them completely in white and added the red stripes. It took them two hours to complete this process. The day of the parade we spent at least an hour wrapping our boxes in different colors. I was red, so I had on a red thermal tee and wrapped my box in red paper with snowmen. Cassie and Lilianna were green so they wore green thermals and wrapped their boxes in green paper with candy canes. Becca was blue or our “Jew Box” and wore a blue thermal and wrapped her box in bluish silver paper with snowflakes. Victoria
The holiday parades of my past aren’t exciting events, they usually end up being things I hate. I said before that I’d pick my sophomore year as my favorite holiday parade because it was bittersweet. My captains were graduating and I had relied on them for two years and cared greatly for them. We still talk even though they are away at college.
After my experiences with holiday parades, its Christmas time and that means gingerbread time. My best friend Julia and I have made plans to watch movies and bake gingerbread cookies with butter cream frosting. We will hook up our space heater and bury ourselves deep into fluffy white blankets and possibly pick up a cat or two. We may even sit and make a gingerbread house. These have been something my cousin Shell and I have made for a couple of years a while back. We used to make one every year in my dining room. We argued over how to frost the roof and do the windows and doors. I preferred to follow the picture on the box but she preferred to just do it. Shell would always tell me, “You’re not going to live in the damn house, just decorate it!” I never realized before the heaviness of her words.
She was right of course, I could never live inside our gingerbread houses yet it seemed each year that’s all I wanted to do. Perhaps it was the sweetly smell of cinnamon in the afternoon after school along with chocolate chip cookies placed on clean white plates. It was almost the simplicity of Christmas that I loved. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the presents too but I loved the way the air smelled of pine trees and ornaments locked away above the rafters. The smell of stocking and freshly baked gingerbread houses, the pumpkin pies and ribbons. Christmas just smells simple and amazing.
Perhaps I just grew up wishing to live in gingerbread houses watching holiday parades.
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