The Parade School thing turned out to be a bust. I received both a phone call and an email back from one of the women who runs it, informing me that their scholarships have already been given out, but that I could apply for work study, which meant that I would have to not only pay $300 still, but also be required to help out. I’m not sure exactly who this whole thing is supposed to be marketed to, but I don’t know any circus people, jugglers, or the like who can afford to throw down hundreds of dollars like this. For that much money, I realized, I could just throw my own parade.

So I kind of did just that on Monday & Tuesday. Er, sort of. Burned sage (to clear away negativity), fripped balls with a bunch of people and rode ourselves down to Ocean City for a spur of the moment overnight jaunt. There are times when you can throw caution to the wind (like during a full moon on a Monday during springtime) and be richly rewarded for it. After a long and impressionistic care ride, we ended up a place one of our comrades immediately compared to the El Sleazo Cafe - the place where Kermit the Frog meets Fozzie Bear in the Muppet Movie, just after leaving the dank comfort of the swamp to seek his fortune.

We didn’t run into Fozzie Bear exactly, but we did run into - completely out of the blue - a friend we’d run into the night before back in town who graciously let us stay at their hotel, where - after many pina coladas and espresso vodka shots - we jammed late into the night on the balcony with guitars, mandolin, harmonica, and lots of singing, under the light of the full moon and the roar of the ocean only a block away.

Maybe it’s just Spring Fever, but it’s seeming to me more and more lately that the universe is aligning itself for some great thing. Or maybe it’s just me aligning myself with the tune of the universe, and letting it sing through me. Through the union of our voices with others, we form chords, accords. We bring ourselves into harmony and everything begins to resonate with our songs of joy - even as the frail unsustainable structures of men working towards the wrong ends fall into ruin.

The purpose of something like Parade School, ultimately, is to teach you how to be a Pied Piper. How to play songs which are an invitation to others to get up, throw off their fears and worries and trek through the streets and through the deserts singing one song as one people, as one voice. Now is a time of Great Union, I feel. Now is a time for pipers and for shepherds, for people who know how to live right to go out to do it loudly and to set an example for others. You won’t convince anyone of anything through argumentation. You have to make them want to copy you because you’re clearly having so much fun. The world is a paradise for those living right, and a pit of unending torment for those who can’t get it together, who refuse to let go of the the pains and the things they like to flog themselves with over and over again. The time is now. If you’ve been waiting for a sign, I’ve seen it writ large in the evening sky. I’ve heard it on the lips of those around me, floating up from the hearts of those who’ve struggled for so long just to find a moment’s peace. It’s here. Amen.