Love letter to Fremont: Number thirty

Dear Fremont Solstice Parade:

I love you. I really do.

And not just because you begin each summer with your heraldic cry of roaring naked bicyclists festooned in full-body paint (or not).

But because you have the best rules of all parades: 

1. All floats must be human-powered. 
2. No written or printed words or logos.
3. No animals (except service animals).
4. No real weapons or fire.

(It's those top two that make you so spectacular.  You allow for people to build floats pushed by teams of people.  You insist on no "sponsorship" floats or elected officials waving from convertibles. You ensure that your entire parade is hand-made, hand-built, and foot-powered.)

Also, I love you because you are put on yearly by the Fremont Arts Council, a group of people with a building in Fremont that plan this party all year long. And because you invite the entire area to come and play.

[Want to join the African dancers in next year's parade? Want to learn to walk on stilts?  Ride a unicycle?  Build enormous puppets? Come to the (free!) classes held at the Council building during the year.  Come one come all.

Not a joiner, but want to build a battleship around your recumbant bike and ride in the parade? You are most welcome.]

Fremont Solstice Parade: You are the best, most arty, totally nuts, completely family-friendly (assuming you can deal with nudity) parade ever.

And even though the sun rarely shows, you still mark the beginning of summer.  And if nothing else, that ritual is critical to the wellbeing of we overly soggy Seattlelites.  So thank you.

With love,
Cupcake