Every year I'm there on Colorado Boulevard for the parade. A personal tradition. Yet, life happens. What's a tradition if you don't have to break it occasionally?
In 1984, there was a certain premature baby at home that I didn't want to expose to the elements.
In 1997 or 1998, I was wretchedly sick with the flu but saw the Stealth Bomber when it flew over our house!
This year, I received a phone call on my way to the parade which re-routed me to Long Beach, where I ultimately watched the parade with my Dad from his hospital room.
New Year's Day
a rose by any other