My entire life, I have been aware of what I now call Marker Days – days in the days ahead when significant things are scheduled to occur. The earlier memory I have of such a day was when my family had been invited to the house of these people who had an outdoor pool. I remember anticipating this and I remember jumping in the pool. I also remember looking forward to the final day of school because the school bus drivers took the Williamson, NY elementary school students to an ice cream stand where we got free ice cream. I remember anticipating this and I remember stirring the ice cream in a cup with a wooden spoon until it had the consistency of very soft ice cream.

Today was another Marker Day – I spent a lot of time preparing for the Alaska State Fair parade. I got the tricycle bicycle, sorted innumerable books into bins, ordered tee-shirts, made press packets for the grandstand announcer and cohorts, contacted people about participating (five showed up), left a message about this with Hatcher Pass Radio, put in a participant application, and other things that I have forgotten about.

Painting box for the bee demo at the fair

The day dawned early and overcast. 50/50 chance of rain in my estimation. It was THE day. I went to the train depot and got our lineup number. I passed out tee-shirts after the five participants arrived. We went first to the Meeting House, then walked over to our line-up place. We were early, had a long wait. It was as we were standing there (behind the senior center float) that it was a marker day, for right then I realized that the moment that I’d been preparing for had arrived. This realization, I knew, would stay with me forever.

We got moving, rounded the corner onto Main Street. And there they were, hundreds of little kids and their parents. Much to my dismay, I realized that we had the bare minimum of walkers. I fell behind, and so did others. But, well, we all had a good time.

The parade’s end for us was the Mat-Su Senior Center. I made a beeline over there and told Pete to meet me there. The senior float had 20 hay bales on it, and I was hoping that Pete and I might score. I began bartering with two guys on the price of the hay and got it down from $20.00 to $18.00 to $15.00. This was $3.00 less than what we paid a few days ago. Pete, who I met up with back at the Historic Eagle Hotel, agreed with me that we should get this hay, which was why he drove the big red truck to the hotel. So he swooped in on it and got the hay, which is now ours.

Needless to say, I’m proud of myself for having made this score. And I’m prouder still for having gotten the price down.

So, I will remember a number of events on this, a marker day.

Next: 228. 8/20/23: On the Road Again