. . . more than in other days anyway. There was a time when I would rather have had one of my smaller toes amputated than stand around watching a parade. But we change in some respects over time, don't we?
Sanctification of the route at 6:15 p.m.
I honestly do not know if the intention was Cuauhtémoc, but for the purposes of this blog, I am saying that he is Cuauhtémoc.
These two men were voted the best dressed in the parade . . . by me. As far as this blog is concerned, my vote is the only vote that counts.
Comandante San Miguel Arcángel, generalísimo of the armies of God and patron of the city casts a stern eye on a gringo expatriate. The helmet was a little askew, but we are not particular in these things.
There are national fiestas. There are state-wide fiestas. There are municipality fiestas. (A municipality is like a county.) There are city-wide fiestas. There are neighborhood or colonia fiestas. (Neighborhoods are colonias in Mexico, not barrios.) There are private fiestas on patios. La Alborada is the annual city-wide fiesta in honor of the Archangel Saint Michael. It is bigger than Independence Day here. It is huge.
I thought this lady brought some real presence and style to the show.
Lupita attended the parade with me earlier in the day and was fairly worn out at the restaurant afterward. To paraphrase the lyric that Joe Cocker interpreted so well, I was not feelin' too good myself.