Happy OB Holidays

The first Saturday night in December is a sacred night in San Diego. Come rain or come shine, the fine folks and the freaks are historically set to embark on a journey of epic proportions down the hallowed trail known as Newport Avenue.

We thought this year would fall under the come rain category.

We get all excited about rain around here. It's a novelty, and generally warm enough to be considered harmless if you just ignore all those pesky freeway crashes.

So when the forecast for the first Saturday night in December called for 100% chance of rain, we were all like "pshaw, rain shmain." Ain't nobody gonna rain on our parade!

But then as the day begins, one can't help but envision the reality of a rainy parade. Standing on the street, in our sad little cotton sweaters and santa hats, freezing to death.

Death < Parade.

So we'd all but written off this year's extravaganza, and I for one was okay with having an entire day to tackle the shit show that is my house.

But then:

whadayagonnado? 

Go to Beth's house, that's what!

Our gracious hostess promised hot drinks for a parade pre-party, and did not disappoint the kids

or the "grown ups"

Then we made our way down to Newport for the big show. Here's my one and only parade photo:

OOooohhh, AAaaaahhhhh

But we got a gem afterwards

awwwww

The parade went by in a flash, we had some strategic complications and most of us ended up running up and down the street instead of watching the floats float by. But it's a great vibe out there, there's no place exactly like OB and it's a beautiful thing to revel in its absurdity on what turned out to be a gorgeous December night. 

Bill and I  were the last hold outs, because Beth was spectacular enough to take all midgets home with her after the parade. We strolled and popped in to a few bars, then decided to hoof it back to her house to call it a night. Along the way, we heard music playing, and naturally headed in that direction. It was then that we stumbled upon a true OB Christmas miracle. Here's a terrible photo:

One of the bands that had played on a flatbed trailer thing had parked along the residential street where they (presumably) live, and had themselves a street concert. It was SO FUN. I can't remember exactly what they called themselves, but the name of the band definitely contained the word Dads. They were our age, and rocking out to The Who, Def Leopard, The Stones, Alice in Chains, Springsteen...people walking by would just stop and join the crew out on someone's lawn, dancing and belting it out on a street full of smiles.  We stayed til the band was hoarse and semi conscious.  

It was a good night. Happy OB Holidays!