An Epic July 4 to My “Partners in Crime”

epic

Deborah Neal is the Social Chair of the Cape Meares Community Association.  She was one of the key persons involved in planning the highly successful July 4, 2014 Celebration.  This is a big responsibility and a lot of work.  We are all grateful for what she did.

And Deborah was also grateful for the way the other members of the CMCA  Board members pitched in and helped with the preparations.  This special holiday event does not happen all by itself.  Deborah sent a poem to the Board members that is too good not to share with everyone in the community.  Below is the poem she wrote.

This is a letter
To every go-getter
Who helped with the 4th celebration
There were a few points
Where I thought we’d need joints
Or some Pre-Game hard liquor libation.

The place looked pristine
It was lovely and clean,
Mike and Patti came through like two heroes.
When they check out their store
They’ll find there’s nothing more
Left of picnic supplies. Just think zeroes.

The planning was tricky,
The lawn chairs were sticky,
The night-before-Prom, what the hell?
I saw them appear
In their cutoffs with beer
But at least they cleaned up very well.

We put out our white boards
To enlighten the hoards
As they drove into town by the dozens,
And all evening they hovered
As each one discovered
Their bricks named for siblings and cousins.

While hanging the banners
And faking good manners
Conversing about this and that,
Heard a lady, who sought
The brick that she’d bought
Say, “It’s here. But it’s under the mat!”

I continued inside.
Thought it safer to hide.
Hung my own “art”, and felt pretty stranded.
There are artists galore
In this hive by the shore,
Yet I’m stuck with a show empty handed.

There’s always a light
In the tunnel. That night-
The Ansorges did heed the appeal.
They delivered through traffic
Embroidery and graphics
And physical help from Marcille.

So early next morning
(I’d had prior warning,)
Was Spike’s garden, set on a trestle.
There were plants on the loose
That were straight out of Seuss,
And a few I’d prefer not to wrestle.

All day during the meal
Stealthy neighbors would steal
Round the back of the building to shop.
“We’re not eating!!” they’d claim
It’s the succulents’ fame……
We’ve been waiting for this season’s crop.

Around ten-forty five
The main streets came alive
And the lawn chairs lined up along 4th.
Little bikes and their tykes
And some glorious trikes
Figured out we were going to head north.

Like a son of the west
Charles donned his bright vest
And stood in the main intersection.
The minions assembled
And Charles resembled
A shepherd of cats to perfection.

The crowd that awaited
Had anticipated
A Rose Parade set in Cape Meares.
The contingent set out
In their splendor, undoubt-
Edly one of the shortest in years.

Nonetheless, they were brilliant
And fully resilient
Despite the elongated street.
Every toddler back
North to south, on the back
In some cases, of dad, looking sweet.

Each event has its crest,
What screwed up, what worked best,
But there’s always a moment that’s fine.
In this case, it’s Chris cooking,
The rest of us looking
At 200 people in line.

How he lasted and smiled
While participants piled
Heaps of salads on plates and then waited!
At his side, Merilee
Fished out dogs feigning glee
Persevering ‘til all had been sated.

In the end, for it ended
A feeling descended
That everyone had a great day.
Jane and Sally, and Spike
Olli, Patti and Mike,
And a couple more names I should say,

Worked long hours to do it
And struggled on through it
Resisting the instinct to drag.
So Kudos to us all.
May we rest, and recall
For next time where we keep the damned flag.

With Enormous Appreciation For All of your Support- Deborah