De Doo Doo Doo, De Dah Dah Dah

Well, Howdy!
Nope, that's not Temple Grandin dressed
for the Golden Globes; that's Mr. Tiny
dressed for The Doo Dah Parade!!!

Do you ever feel like a chicken (you'll come to appreciate the analogy later) running around with its head cut off?  Lately we have had so much going on (fun stuff, I'm not complaining too emphatically), that I feel directionless, exhausted, and powered exclusively by nervous energy.  Certain areas of my existence have suffered - sleep, cleanliness/organization, and blogging being no exceptions.

Mike probably has a cleaner bedroom than I.

Weary but excited, we woke early last weekend to participate in the second-annual Easy Acres Chicken Sitting entry in the 2012 Doo Dah Parade! 

You might remember the fun feathered fiasco of last year's Easy Acres entry as documented by our humble blog.  This year our theme was The Grand Ole Opry circa 1972.  Rhinestones, big hair, chickens, and a 1960 Cadillac Eldorado convertible were the order of the day.

Our Mistress of Ceremonies, Honky Tonk Queen, Grand Marshall, and
all-around Red Hot Chicken Picker, Anna, of Easy Acres Chicken Sitting

Deke Dickerson lent himself and his Cadillac to the festivities.
Have you see any finer fins than this?

Due to an allergy among our ranks, our usual flurry of feathers was forbidden.
That didn't stop the storm of sequins and confetti!

Chicken Head

Our flock

The Ladies who Parade

Yes, those are tortillas (hurled by rather-overzealous crowd members).
And yes, we did save them for our post-parade party - we served chicken tacos.

Every person's motives for parade participation are different.  Many people are there because they are part of a performance troupe.  Many people are there because there are too few parades in which to practice the drills of your Disco Drill Team.  While plenty of us were there just for fun, some people had a light, and a message, that they just couldn't hide under a bushel any longer.

"Cannabis Safer Than Alcohol"

She turned her sign just as the shutter snapped, but it read,
"Moms say legalize it!"
Marijuana? Prostitution? Gambling? Smokeless tobacco for children in wagons?
Not my mom - on any of those issues - just for the record.

The dominant theme this weekend was "fins and fowl."  After experiencing the grandeur of chickens and that '60 Eldorado, we motored down to San Diego for the Charles Phoenix show followed by a dinner at The San Diego Chicken Pie Shop and a two-car Plymouth show.  Two of our dinner companions drove their Plymouths and the fins couldn't help but be the star of the show!

The San Diego Chicken Pie Shop won for best execution of legume-based chicken mosaics, 

but I have to say that it doesn't hold a candle to our beloved, La Palma Chicken Pie Shop!

This is how the chicken....

...wanted to cross the road.

"Golden Commando Power"
My new catch phrase

I have absolutely no idea what this song means, but it says "do" and "da," and my lengthy preamble nothwithstanding, it's pretty much all I want to say to you.

"De Do Do Do De Da Da Da" - The Police

And just a couple more CHICKENS!!!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Camptown Ladies Sing this Song!!!!

For about one hour on the morning of Saturday, April 30, it rained feathers on Colorado Boulevard.  Did a poultry truck explode?  No.  Was it the end of days?  No.  Was Pasadena experiencing some kind of freak storm?  Well, kind of.  Once a year Pasadena closes a section of Colorado Boulevard and opens its arms to everyone and everything that the very traditional Rose Parade would never allow.  Known as The Doo Dah Parade, this exercise in madness has a 30+ year history of synchronized-dancing business men, giant cat floats, gothic stilt-walkers, transvestite surf-guitarists, hula-hoopers, and every other harebrained scheme the likes of which any sane person would never imagine.  This stuff is beyond wacky tacky.

A look at the 2010 Doo Dah Parade

Our friend Anna Goeser, inventor of the Mojave Bonsai and owner/founder of Easy Acres Chicken Sitting (eastside Los Angeles' premiere chicken-sitting service) decided to enter the parade as a novel way to promote her business.  The idea behind our entry was chicken-sitting, dust bowl refugees.  Given our family's long and storied Okie heritage, we found this a comfortable fit and committed ourselves wholeheartedly to the endeavor.

Anna - Mother Hen of Easy Acres Chicken Sitting

The new American Gothic
I'm holding the pillow that started it all

The chickens take pride of place on the hood of the 1937 Studebaker.

Prepping for the parade....in the gutter
Take that, Dorothea Lange!!!!

We lobbed easter eggs into the crowd, distributed business cards and cast about 10 million feathers to gusty Santa Ana winds.  In return, the crowds pelted us with marshmallows and tortillas (I'm pretty sure that it was good-natured although the girl with the marshmallow air rifle makes me wonder).  I'm truly grateful that I was not in charge of clean-up.

The feathers were flying!

Mary rode on the running board

Upping our Okie street cred - we pushed the car along most of the parade route

Strangely enough, we were not the only hillbillies with chickens at the parade.  The spirit of the parade took over and we joined forces with the performers from "Diatomaceous Love" who brought their own tractor, jug band and live chicken!

The chicken

The tractor

The band

Other entries included:

The obligatory Disco Brigade

A family of papier-mache eyeballs and bunny heads.
I really liked the designs, but I'm pretty sure that they were part of some New-Age
spiritual philosophy.  The lady pictured told me that children don't know how to cough.
What does that even mean?

While I'm fully aware that this "Lace Granny" was born a man, after

 one look it is hard to believe that granny dear was born to be anything else.

Rod Stewart? No, it's a tiny dog wearing a wig and a bow tie.

Going into this, I really thought that this would be a once-in-a-lifetime gig.  We had such a great time, however, that I am already planning for next year.  We danced, played the kazoo, littered freely and met some truly awesome people.  My number one plan for next year is to bring sunscreen so bystanders will remember that we were promoting urban, chicken farming not "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes."

Y'all come back now ya hear!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny