I look at the marching band. The sun has set, but its members are wearing sunglasses. The conductor issues an order to move forward. They pass by. I am dumbfounded. I look at KW and PG.
“Did you see that?” I say. “Wasn’t that amazing?”
“I thought it was okay,” KW responds.
I am not sure what to make of her response. “But they were blind, weren’t they?”
“No way!” exclaims PG.
I attempt to make my case, and PG asks for evidence. I show a photo of them wearing sunglasses.
KW is unimpressed. “They issue sunglasses to a lot of marching bands.” A and J agree.
Sure enough, the next marching band that passes by also contains a lot of members wearing sunglasses. Wonder recedes, but the entertainment continues: a dancing kid in front of me, the never-ending stream of dragons, and friends. The parade ends, but we stay in San Francisco a while longer: jokes, stories, and dancing in the BART.
I come home and enter “blind marching band” into Google. It turns out the 2010 Rose Parade will feature one.