The season for Small Town America

It seems like big cities are always glamorized in popular culture, as if Manhattan or LA are the only places to have a good time. I disagree. Theoretically, big cities have more to offer. But when summer rolls around, so do the good times in small towns. For example:

• Rodeos: There's no one to impress, so you can unabashedly enjoy a bubble-gum snow cone with a little dirt (see above). Three year olds don't care that they aren't at the Grand Nationals (although I hear they are amazing). Instead, they get to ride the bucking bale of hay, barrel race a stick horse and they even get a competitor's number for their efforts (see below).

And, it's only 12 bucks to get in and kids under 7 are free. Can't find entertainment that cheap for miles around. Good times.

• Pet Parades: When we visited my parents, the Pet Parade was scheduled, so we had to go. After all, that was where I made my own parade debut at the tender age of 10 (or so) with my friend Alicia. It was about 1984, so we carried our ghetto-blaster playing Madonna (during the uber-'80's "Like a Virgin"-era), dressed up her dog in punk-ish clothes and wore ripped fish-net stockings and reflective sunglasses. (Now that that secret is out, I'm off to live in a cave somewhere. I'll miss you all.) I remembered walking and walking and walking the parade route... for what felt like hours. This time, we arrived at 1:02 pm (it was to start at 1 pm) and we saw the last entry at... 1:06. No kidding. I was stunned to realize that someone actually took the work to put together a parade that was five. minutes. long. And the best part: the horse category. There was a person who carried a sign that introduced each category (Small Animals, Large Dogs, etc.). So when the last category, horses, came up, I knew our kids would love it. And they did. All one horses in the category. Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade has nothin' on a 5 minute parade in a small town. Maybe it's the fact that the crowd I'm running with has a 5 minute attention span (at best), but sometimes less is more.
• The Dairy Queen (reverently referred to as the DQ where I'm from): Back in the day, we used to go there every Wednesday night after Bible study. There's a table with class pictures from our high school from the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s. I LOVED looking at those pictures, and sometimes we'd find someone who was someone's aunt/mother/grandmother, etc. It's still there. A little more sun-faded, but it's still there. (On the green table with the wire-back chairs, prrrof, you remember?)
• School pride, even in the summer: There's always some sign on some businesses' billboard saying, "Boys' Soccer #1 at State!" or "Congrats to Billy Bob, State Spelling Bee Champ!". More often than not, however, a simple "Go Tigers!" suffices.

There's more, really. Like going to 12 yrs of school with the same kids. Like knowing everyone's parents, grandparents and siblings. Like being known as your big sister's little sister which somehow made you feel so much better. Public swimming pools. Community softball games. Library story-times. So happy summer, Small Town America. Eat a Dilly Bar or a bubble gum snow cone on me.