{"id":18663,"date":"2020-11-01T09:00:00","date_gmt":"2020-11-01T14:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sasee.wpenginepowered.com\/?post_type=essay&p=18663"},"modified":"2024-03-26T15:08:37","modified_gmt":"2024-03-26T19:08:37","slug":"razzle-dazzle-and-hope","status":"publish","type":"essay","link":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/essay\/razzle-dazzle-and-hope\/","title":{"rendered":"Razzle Dazzle and Hope"},"content":{"rendered":"

Our gleeful squeals echoed all the way to Highland. We quickly assembled in front of the Cadillac convertible.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t walk across the street to see a parade,\u201d Daddy declared at breakfast the day before Thanksgiving. \u201cI don\u2019t hold with razzle-dazzle.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I shot Mama a despairing glance. That very night was the Santa Claus Lane Parade!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All autumn I\u2019d been practicing my walkovers and twirls as an acrobatic majorette in the Carpenterettes. While the others in our troupe would roll down the route on skates, the three of us in the center row not only twirled, but at breaks cavorted for the crowds like a pack of seals, outdoing one another, tossing batons as high as the telephone wires, turning a flip or walkover before catching them, landing in splits on the pavement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mama had spent weeks sewing sequins onto the lapels of my satin costume. We\u2019d debut new outfits for this parade down Hollywood Boulevard, second only to the Rose Parade in local fame. These two bracketed the Southern California holidays like bookends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t upset us, Paul.\u201d Mama said quietly. \u201cTerri\u2019s leaving for school now. I don\u2019t want her worrying all day.\u201d She handed me a slice of raisin toast with a reassuring smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAll right. We leave at 5,\u201d Daddy finally grumbled, \u201cbut I won\u2019t drive to Hollywood ever again, Hope or no Bob Hope.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019d be too nervous that day to eat lunch and if we left at five, we\u2019d have to postpone supper until we got back home. I gobbled up the toast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hollywood, though only nine miles from our Southwest Los Angeles home, seemed a million miles away, as far as Andromeda, a beckoning, shimmering glamour symbol.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We\u2019d all been star struck, my classmates and even Mama. We gossiped about how an agent discovered Lana Turner sipping a soda at the very Schwab\u2019s Drug Store on Sunset where they were shooting the new movie, \u201cSunset Boulevard.\u201d We poured over photos of stars in the Herald Express and Photoplay Magazine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But the Santa Claus Lane Parade! Every year we tried to guess the Grand Marshall. A few years earlier Gene Autry had memorialized his experience by penning \u201cRudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now, in 1949, it would feature Bob Hope. At Bebe Carpenter Studio we tapped and twirled to \u201cButtons and Bows,\u201d an Academy Award-winning tune Hope had introduced in 1948 in The Pale Face.
That afternoon as Mama pinned my cap securely to my topknot so it wouldn\u2019t fall off when I cartwheeled, I wondered which troupe would lead Grand Marshall Hope. I suspected the Carpenterettes would front an American Legion Post color guard or a drum and bugle corps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mama applied mascara to my lashes and rouged my cheeks. She handed me her tube of Tangee Pink Queen so I could put on my own lipstick. Wearing makeup was one of the most thrilling parts of preparing for a performance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As it neared 5pm, Mama handed me a new baton and boots, an early Christmas present. I wondered how she\u2019d saved to buy them from her grocery allowance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As our old Chevy headed north, I wondered if the famous Meglin Kiddies would appear. The Meglin Dance Studio had produced Judy Garland, Mickey Rooney, and Shirley Temple. Though we saw them as our arch-rivals, in truth we Carpenterettes were second cousins twice removed. We aspired, while they\u2019d attained.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When we reached the participant drop-off point, Mama promised they\u2019d pick me up later by Grauman\u2019s Chinese Theater. I connected with my troop. Our director, Bebe Carpenter herself, nodded approval at our sparkling new outfits. Our sequins reflected the rays of the thousands of fairy lights decorating Santa Claus Lane.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood news, girls,\u201d she said, \u201cyou\u2019ll be escorting the Grand Marshall.\u201d Our gleeful squeals echoed all the way to Highland. We quickly assembled in front of the Cadillac convertible carrying Hope. He perched on the backseat, waving to the throngs lining the streets. He hadn\u2019t noticed us yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This was the second year a local station televised the parade, so we knew that when we passed the camera booth with radio personality Bill Welsh, we\u2019d turn and perform a baton salute. Welsh would announce The Carpenterettes, a matter of importance to Bebe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alhough November nights even in balmy LA can be chilly, the exertion of performing soon warmed me up, so along the route I welcomed the occasional pauses to swipe at my forehead. At last we neared Welsh\u2019s booth. Welsh, excited, leapt from the booth, carrying his hand mic out to Hope.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We couldn\u2019t overhear them, but Welsh hurried back to us. \u201cHope wants to give one of you his autograph,\u201d he said, grabbing my shoulder, as the cameramen positioned themselves. He propelled me toward the Caddy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hope leaned over, extending a hand with a pen at the ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood evening, dear,\u201d he said. \u201cWhere\u2019s your paper?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I blinked, bewildered. Having none, I tugged off my left boot and handed it to him. He smiled, scrawling his name in letters tall enough for the camera to catch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On Thanksgiving our Herald Express came early. I\u2019d made the front page, grinning up at Hope signing my boot. Mama clipped out the photo and framed it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Daddy, true to his word, never again attended another parade.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In 2007 the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce, which had staged this Tinseltown treat each year, announced that the 75th in \u201906 had been the last. Hearing this, I hummed a few bittersweet bars of \u201cButtons and Bows,\u201d recalling that \u201cHopeful\u201d holiday season when I was 12.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Los Angeles finally revived the parade, renaming it the Hollywood Santa Parade. Though Daddy didn\u2019t hold with razzle-dazzle, I certainly do. I\u2019m planning to see it next year.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Our gleeful squeals echoed all the way to Highland. We quickly assembled in front of the Cadillac convertible. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t walk across the street to see a parade,\u201d Daddy declared […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6,"featured_media":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_tec_requires_first_save":true,"_gspb_post_css":"","_EventAllDay":false,"_EventTimezone":"","_EventStartDate":"","_EventEndDate":"","_EventStartDateUTC":"","_EventEndDateUTC":"","_EventShowMap":false,"_EventShowMapLink":false,"_EventURL":"","_EventCost":"","_EventCostDescription":"","_EventCurrencySymbol":"","_EventCurrencyCode":"","_EventCurrencyPosition":"","_EventDateTimeSeparator":"","_EventTimeRangeSeparator":"","_EventOrganizerID":[],"_EventVenueID":[],"_OrganizerEmail":"","_OrganizerPhone":"","_OrganizerWebsite":"","_VenueAddress":"","_VenueCity":"","_VenueCountry":"","_VenueProvince":"","_VenueState":"","_VenueZip":"","_VenuePhone":"","_VenueURL":"","_VenueStateProvince":"","_VenueLat":"","_VenueLng":"","_VenueShowMap":false,"_VenueShowMapLink":false,"_tribe_blocks_recurrence_rules":"","_tribe_blocks_recurrence_description":"","_tribe_blocks_recurrence_exclusions":"","footnotes":""},"essay_type":[46],"essay-category":[],"class_list":["post-18663","essay","type-essay","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","essay_type-features"],"blocksy_meta":[],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay\/18663","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/essay"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/6"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=18663"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay\/18663\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18663"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"essay_type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay_type?post=18663"},{"taxonomy":"essay-category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay-category?post=18663"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}