The Tortilla Parade.

As a kid, I used to look forward to watching the Rose Parade on TV every New Year's Day. It's been years since I've really watched it (these days the parade's start is usually my bed time), but I confess, even as an adult, I love that kind of stuff (I'm sappy, traditional, and sentimental). So this year, my lovely fiancee and I decided to do something neither of us had ever done before: spend New Years alone, and camp out for some good seats to see the show. I found out after I got there that George Lucas was the Grand Marshall, which was cool (and seeing all the Storm Troopers march in to that ominous theme was freakin' sweet). The only downside was our neighbors... an unruly, deviant, defiant, and foul-mouthed clan (parents and kids alike) that brought with them bags full of tortillas, which they layered with butter and shaving cream... and threw at passing cars. Classy! If that ain't a cry for border reform, I don't know what is. Nevertheless, despite all of that, and despite the bitter cold, we had a blast. Maybe next year we'll do it again (and I'll show up with my own arsenal of pita and feta cheese). All the best in 2007, people.