Gretna Days

I flew back to Nebraska in July to partake in the 50th anniversary of my town’s annual parade/celebration “Gretna Days”. Every small town in Nebraska has a weekend that they call their own. There is a small carnival with kiddie rides and pop bottle games. A parade full of fire trucks and Shriners (side note…don’t you totally want to chase them around waving your arms…I mean they are wearing those funny fez hats driving tiny cars…it just screams CHASE ME, te he he he). I had to explain to some Chicago friends of mine what a “watermelon feed” was. They just couldn’t grasp the idea that a town would host a picnic and give away free hot dogs, beans, and watermelon slices. Around Chicago, we call that a food bank.
We had my niece for the weekend, so I took her to the parade. The temperature was hovering around 100 with no clouds in sight. Thankfully we able to score shade under my friend Gilligan’s tent. That only slowed down the progressive melting though. Needless to say, my niece was less than thrilled.

Looking at the photos...I didn't realize it captures the "hot as balls" feeling so well. Everyone is red faced and sweating up a storm.


Yes, exactly what you would expect from a Nebraska parade. Tractors, tractors and more tractors.
And a little Hooker (ah ha ha ha).


We later took her to the kiddie carnival where we were more excited about the rides than she was. Yep, all of the pictures she has this bored look on her face. Maybe next year.
Ava's first tattoo (again...so not amused)


I caught up with some high school friends at the street dance. We were partaking in a lesser known sport of “midwestern mullet spotting” (in their natural habitat of course). Everyone has probably seen the website or been sent a forwarding email about the people at Walmart. Well, now I know where those people come from.
Behold...the awesome multi-pony tail mullet

For those in the tropical spirit...the Hawaiian mullet

No sleeves...no problem (so long as it is a beer shirt)

One step further, no shirt...no problem (love that he was willing to pose for a picture with me)

Wave...that mullet goodbye

You can't spell douche bag without "metallic clubbing shirt...open of course so we can make Jersey Shore references"

Proof that a sewing machine plus festive fabric from your local Joann can make a snazzy pair of culottes.

Two cases of excessive matching. First up...the white tiger lady (all that is missing is a tail or a pair of zubaz)

First faux pass, visible underwear. At least the pants and underpants are both plaid.


The highlight of the weekend was definitely fainting goats. Yep, my friend Shannon and her husband have a pet fainting goat (don’t ask me why, but that is why I love her). After a few hours of drinking, the party decided it would be awesome to get the goat to faint. It was hilarious to watch intoxicated adults waving their hands, yelling random strange spooky noises, and chasing the poor thing around. Sadly, the goat didn’t faint once…not even a little bit. Ah ha ha ha. I guess they weren’t as stealth as they thought.
One final pic...high school friends with an original Regan - Bush (Sr.) hat. Yes Mike was only 3 at the time...but thankfully his father had the sense to keep it around for an awesome retro keepsake.