Boo-ed at a Lovefest

Sammi hugs a parader.

We were booed at a love fest. Seemed like quite the paradox. Felt like shit.

It happened in Seattle during the beautiful Solstice Parade where naked people were painted extraordinarily and summer celebrators were costumed beyond the imagination. Paraders came up to us and we hugged them. We waved to all. I cheered.

It was totally joyous until we had to leave.

There was one exit route and we patiently waited, along with other cars, till a nice police officer, temporarily halted the parade from moving and waved us through. As we drove the 100 yards to the clearing, we were booed.

"Why are they booing us?" my kids asked. My sister and I came up with these possible reasons:
1. because we were parade party poopers.
2. because our exit momentarily stopped the parade from advancing (mind you, the music and dancing still went on)
3. because we were driving a vehicle that required gas (Toyota) rather than a bicycle.
4. Maybe because we weren't naked.
5. Because negativity thrives in a crowd.

Either way, being booed sucks. The boo-ers just categorized us as bad interrupters. They don't know that my sister, aka the driver, gives so much of her time and money to a dozen local charities and organizations. The booers don't know that I do much of the same in my own way, writing stories rather than writing checks. And my kids in the backseat, totally innocent,  totally reforming their opinions of Seattle.

I regret not capturing the ugly puckered-lip squinty-eyed faces of the jeering crowd.