It was a strange thing to experience the St. Ratrick's Parade from an insider perspective. You don't get to see much of the parade unless you walk around to check out the other bands and floats. While standing around for 3 hours waiting to move out, we had a chance to socialize, try out each others' bikes, catch peanut butter sandwiches catapulted across the crowd by the Scallywags, eat free hot dogs next to a cement mixer, and drink beer right out on the street. But then a huge Teamsters truck in front of us opened up, Transformer style, into an obnoxious wedding-dance jukebox, drowning out all chances at talking to anyone next to you. After many hours this was getting a little tiresome. The shadows crept across the street taking our warm sun away. When the high-school bands gave up practicing it seemed we'd never move out until sundown.