June 25, 2012 
This Saturday is the second day of Solstice Celebration in Santa Barbara. Probably elsewhere, too, I imagine, but SB’s the best place to celebrate the sun’s extended summertime schedule, and I’m not just barking at the moon. Tens of thousands agree.
Art imitating sun initiates fun
Noontime finds a crowd some 100K strong coursing through the heart of downtown, gathering along sidewalks, storefronts, fence posts and balconies lining the parade’s imminent path. The theme this year is ostensibly: “Fantasy”, and though it isn’t officially noted on the event’s website, a few tank-mates from “Finding Nemo” have found their way into the mix. A nod to our coastally situated community, no doubt.
 Fantastically Sunny– |
 –but Squid-tastic, too! |
The cited 100K figure only accounts for the audience. More than 1000 will participate in the parade itself, while hundreds of artisans, craftsman, vendors and musicians festoon nearby Alameda Park. An arc of balloons crests the park’s northeast corner, while bunting, bandstands and booths line its in-between borders, and it’s a good thing. The bowers lend shade to the appropriately named: Alameda Park Festival, the parade’s ipso facto “after-party”, and the diversity of vendors on hand guarantees treats for of all ages.
 Looks Inviting! |
 A sweet deal for a good cause. Gently Used Children’s Clothing. |
We’ll swing by Alameda, later, though. First we have to join the lesser pageant of pedestrians on the remaining 5 blocks between parking spots and festivities, but the walk isn’t a hardship. Old friends are encountered, neighborly greetings are exchanged, and passing dogs are petted as the distance closes, and our quest ultimately yields a likely vantage point. We happen into a scrap of unoccupied space right across from the Arlington Theatre, just blocks from the parade’s turnaround point at Micheltorena.
Triple-Decker People!
Sitting is another story. A sold-out book of a story all on audio. The ambient sound of hundreds of separate conversations positively hums into a vocalized melting pot, and catcalls and horns alike pepper the air with excited shrieks. No wonder. The sidewalks are stacked 3 deep in humanity, from sidewalk to terrace to rooftop. The sidewalk claims are staked as early as the preceding night, Jim tells me, and the result of that die-hard diligence can be seen in both directions:
Johnny Law, too, though this fella is only clearing the street so the parade can pass.
The curbs are a quilted patchwork of taped down bed-sheets meant to indicate a given group’s campsite, beach chairs under umbrellas throwing the modest Jellystones’ into shaded relief, and it vexes me to think I didn’t bring along such accoutrements myself.
Headwear or sunscreen, either. I don’t have so much as a teal-colored wig or tube of face paint to my name, though there are plenty of temporary tribal tats and silly hats on others. A sea of sombreros, stovepipes, Maid Marions’ and Jester caps top the fairy wings and peasant skirts of more weather-ready onlookers, protecting them from the waxing sun and 75+ temperatures, but what can you do?
Hindsight is always 20-20 vision, and as I relax from our walk and exchange pleasantries with fellow sardines, the Mardi Gras magic of it all fills me, sending my lack of preparedness packing to the only seat left: the figurative back one.
 Your Humble Narrator…& Co! |
 Ginger & Paul down from No Cal. |
 Don & Swanky with Doggies: Butch & Gidget. Looking good, Gidg’! |
 Last but not lèse, Her Majesty: The Queen of Hearts. |
The thrum of incidental bongo bangers fades—and a skating human chain of “space-fillers” leads the first float up to our area–each rolling marvel equipped with its own unique soundtrack, and powered by muscle and muscle only. There’s no “car” appended to that “muscle”. A combination of pedals, pull bars and biceps are all that mobilize these oversized rickshaws some distance of a mile or more, which says a lot for the fitness level of the volunteer workers’ schlepping it.
 These fit folk keep the excitement level high between floats. |
 …That roll, too, if slightly slower. |
It says a lot about the vitality of the tagalong rings of roving barkers, also. Sporting an array of costumes that range from role-playing get-ups such as pirates, sea-nymphs and crabs complete with castanet claws, to the more cumbersome mascot-size, cover-ups of macaw, flamingo and owl, these inciters of fantasy and fun are pure get-up and go. They alternate slapstick antics with exuberant shouts out to peeps one and all, and a more literal kind of egging on: Confetti-filled Cascarones sail through the air along with the occasional errant balloon or bubble or–
Part reality, part-fantasy, this Cop and Donut floats to die for!
Ticket? Seriously? No, as it turns out. This fun “cop & donut” wagon was padded with sequin sprinkles instead of offenders, and the “officer” issuing tickets was on droll patrol more than crowd control. Don’t believe me? Here! Take a look at the fine he issued me!
Cited for Shutterbugging…and I’m mandated to take more as punishment!
I’m happy to pay it. And offer a donation to this adorable basket-bearing mother & daughter team, in passing. If every one of the attendees donated just 1 dollar to the Solstice cause, well…you do the math. This sun-celebrating coalition would be able to splash out that much more celebration. Something to think about for the community-supported parade next year, the preparations of which are so fraught they begin the minute the current year’s celebration is through.
Adorable mom and duaghter duo make giving easy!
OR
Enough soap-boxing. The just approaching members of the dancing ensembles are the clear-cut cardio Queens of the parade–obvious crowd-pleasers and blog stars, too–and I do my best to capture their vibrant movements.
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Seriously sexy.
Getting physical and keeping physical, the dancers wear midriff and mid-down bearing costumes that rival those of the participants in the more provocative Carnival staged in South America, so when parade attendees: Daniella & Talita tell me the girls’ feathered booties are undulating to Brazilian Samba, I don’t doubt them for a minute. It’s easy to believe since both college students hail from that area, but the dancers’ endurance is harder to fathom.
Maybe it’s the ventilated clothing?
Even with vigilant mothers on hand to spritz passing daughters with a cooling blast of water from a spray bottle.
This is how they do it…
Or thirst-quenching sips of sarsapilla:
A little more to it than just line dancing.
By the time this purple dragon float makes it to our corner, the dancers look done in, and who can blame them? The crush of humanity seems to intensify the heat, the sun blazing as hotly as the fire of the dragon’s phantom breath, inducing even those less active to seek respite. Time to head to the park,for some much needed refreshments.
His scales are composed of hundreds of tiny, hand-painted paper plates!
The steady beat of the drum circle that sets up at the festival would guide us the short distance there if needed–carrying, as it is–on the breeze along with a tantalizing potpourri of incense, tobacco and BBQ smoke.
Always lots to eat…
They’re selling a bit of everything at the Alameda Festival! To say the hodgepodge of vended goods offered is diverse is like saying there’s only a couple shades of grey between black and white.
Tiki. The Tacky you love to hate.
Doing a surprisingly brisk business…
Hot as it is, it appears you do NOT have to pick your audience after all.
The kiosks span the spectrum from Tiki masks, tye-dye and turkey legs, to henna tattoos, hula-hoops and trigger-activated reusable heat packs. (of all things!) There are garden decorations and lawn furniture, jewelry stands, luxury-bedding booths, and hand-crafted greeting cards–there’s even a stand offering up quantities: of Resonant Truth! (for the right price, of course)
Truth Booth
It isn’t until I come upon these fellows taking it easy in the lofty boughs of a fig tree that my own truth resonates, though. Fun as all the hub-bub is, I’m ready to pack it in and find a nook of my own in which to daydream away the rest of this long afternoon.
Dream Boughs
Decorative Solar Panel
A nook in the sun, if I can help it.
Charron's Chatter 
What fun!!! your pics are great but your narrative even better!
Listen up, readers! Len is not a shill! Yes, she makes absolutely PERFECT remarks, but she is REAL…lol. Thank you, LW’s. That makes me feel just great. 🙂