Sometimes it’s hard not to think the world is going to “you-know-where” in a “you-know-what.”

In line at the supermarket the other day, I saw the cover of a tabloid with a candidate for Vice President wearing an American flag bikini, holding a large rifle (it was not Joe Biden).

I turned on the local news the other morning and the two anchors, who reminded me of Paris and Nicky Hilton, were actually chatting about the new “90210″ T.V. series between reports.

And, to top it all off, I go to the drugstore to buy Sudafed for my horrible head cold yesterday and not only do I have to show my driver’s license to buy it, but I have to sign a waiver saying I will not make highly-addictive illegal substances with this medicine. As I signed the form on the electronic key pad, I remarked to the woman at the register, “Times have changed, huh?”

She rolls her eyes, “Yup.”

It’s a sad, sad state of affairs.

But on the bright side, last weekend the family and I spent the morning marching in our town parade. So as I process these recent examples of ridiculousness in the “news,” politics and cold medicine law enforcement measures, I keep trying to think back to that parade.

It had been a beautiful fall morning. All of us marchers met at the baseball field just down the block from the afore-mentioned drugstore. The 4-H Club with their cows lined up ahead of the local karate studio, who were behind The Garden Club, who would march in front of us…all five of us moms, with strollers in tow, who were marching for the local Family Connection. Behind us were the older gentlemen who comprised the cheerful marching band, and behind them were the dozens of young kids from the town soccer league. And of course there were the Girl Scouts, the Boy Scouts, the fire trucks, and so on…

As I shaded my eyes with my hand and squinted to peer across the field and the controlled chaos, I saw my husband, across the way in a sea of royal blue t-shirts, playing goalie with my son and his fellow soccer teammates while they waited to march. I thought about how lucky we are to live in this town. We bought our first house here seven years ago for exactly this reason…so that someday, we’d be doing exactly this. It felt good to revel in that for a moment.

When it was time to march, my college friend Jules and I held the banner for our family group and proudly trekked up the hill of Main Street. We waved to our friends and neighbors. We chatted and laughed along the route, as we recognized that it’s been a looooong time since our party days…before the strollers, the husbands, the kids and the parades, when we’d spend weekend nights dancing into the wee hours of the morning.

Life has changed as we’ve become grown-ups, and the world is changing. And sometimes I’m not always sure it’s for the better. But living in this small, family-friendly town makes it easier. It protects us from some of the craziness that comes with “progress.” I see friendly faces at the playground, I chat with the mailman, and when one of my kids is having a tantrum in the supermarket, I’m sure to run into a neighbor. And that’s exactly how I want it.

It’s hard not to get caught up in the ridiculousness of the world we live in.

But it’s also nice to know you can live in a place where everybody loves a parade.