I’m on the 17th floor, directly above the parade route. That’s almost eye level with the blimps circling downtown. We don’t normally hear much noise from the street but this was loud: 17 stories up, through sealed double-thick glass, and across an office filled with sound-damping cubicles, I could make out the cheering and the guitar riffs.
And then it was past. Now it’s just a bunch of green and white confetti.
Who pays for parades, anyway?
Secretly Ironic 