Today’s ride took me down the hill to meet friends for lunch and then a walk over to Charles Avenue for the St. Patrick’s Day parade (and no, I don’ t know why it was today). This is my third parade in Baltimore, and S. reminded me not to go in to compare this parade to New Orleans parades–they’re totally different things–and to see what fun I might get out of this one. I heeded this most excellent advice and leaned back on my heels for 90 minutes of Ancient Orders of the Hibernians, Irish dance teams, beauty queens, and bagpipers. I snapped this photo of the Baltimore Irish Northern Aid Society as they passed by, all smiles, their banner not nearly so smiley. This was the only explicitly political spot in the parade, though I’m sure the whole thing is political in one way or another. Today I didn’t really care–I was busy enjoying the warm sun, so warm it turned my neck pink, and a most delightful weekend, perfect, really. After the last vintage fire truck had passed, I walked my bike down to the end of the parade and then rode over to Fort McHenry to use the bathroom and get some water. That place was hopping today–summer’s going to be a whole different bag, isn’t it? I rode back toward the harbor and stopped at the Rusty Scupper for a drink and some basketball. Without the National Park Service, there’d be Rusty Scuppers ringing every beautiful body of water in this country, and that would be terrible. But as much as I’m surprised to admit it, I’m glad there’s this one–that cream of crab soup was one of the best things I’ve ever had in my mouth. I teared up while watching the NCAA men’s basketball selection show, and then pedaled my way back up the hill as the sun went down after 7:00pm. I’m sure glad I quit smoking 6 years ago today–I never would have even started that ride if I were still puffing away. Huzzah!
Speaking of which, Northern Irish plates are various to many in the rest of the British Isles. And they have an individual unbelievably practical gain – they are thought of dateless. There is no letter in any collection to reveal yrs.
Sorry hon for the late reply…I was roaming the Internet today and saw your blog about our grand Parade. My name is Stacie Guerin and the man carrying the England Get out of Ireland banner is my beloved husband William J. Guerin. Thank you for a wonderful photo of him. I march with a differnt group and rarely get to see him. To answer a couple of questions, we usually have the St. Patrick’s Parade before the holiday because it is easier for the organizations and marchers to participate on a weekend. Second, the banner is political and represents the founding principal of many of the organizations in the parade, to see a free and united Ireland, that includes all the LAOH and AOH divisions. You are correct the Parade is political, check out the history of Irish Catholics in this country and prejudice that is part of our history. We march to celebrate our faith, our heritage, and our friendship. I agree our little ole’ parade is not New Orleans, I have been blessed to attend that wonderful event. However since I met Billy, I have been involved in this event and I am Vice-President of the Maryland Irish Festival in November. I think we do a very nice job…we even have beads. Ha Ha Bill’s family was one of the founding families of the parade over 50 years ago and we continue the grand tradition. The Guerins just had their fifth generation march in the parade this year. Thank you for sharing your adventures on your bike and I hope to see ya again this year.
Thanks for the info, Stacie! And I’ll definitely be there next year–it was a great parade. I’m adjusting my parade expectations, but boy, I *do* still love a parade. Enjoy the waning days of summer!