VOL. 6, NO. 2
OCT. 9, 1964
Life of float isn't always bed of roses
By Peggy Fisher

Oh, what a pain to be a float! You kids think you've got it bad working so hard to make me beautiful, trying so hard to have the winning float, but what do I get out of it? I get poked full of wilted old napkins, I get stepped on, and that smelly paint-it's sticky and cold, and it takes so-o-o long to dry! I've got so many scratches from being poked with chicken wire, that I might not make it through the parade. It would serve those kids right if I fell apart right in front of the judges! Speaking of judges-when I lose which happens almost		 every year, think how I'll feel! Surethe kids are smashed cause they worked so hard-but me! I'm the one they stepped on, poked, and dragged around in that rain that comes every Homecoming! Of course, maybe the afternoon weather will prove better than the rainy evening weather we've had the past few years. Sometimes I wonder how I last through the day.

Then after the parade---Oh! brother! And I thought it was bad before. If you don't think it hurts to get ripped apart and yanked on and o-o-oh! Those kids! --- but I guess they mean well. I just hope that this year they have some sympathy for me - let's try kids, huh??