Mardi Gras weekend

this isn't a poem.

There was a parade today.
We didn't go.

People were happy with anticipation as we drove past.
They were hanging out on their lawns, coolers filled with cold beverages on an early Spring cool day. There were firepits and BBQ grills on the sidewalks. Children spun in circles, caught shiny beads, ate chocolate doubloons tossed by non-drag-queens wearing feathers & sequins.
Dogs ran loose. Sniffed things.

We drove past. Headed home. Took a nap. Chatted for a while as the babies napped.
Woke to go to
Bed, Bath and Beyond.

Geez am I old or what?

When the parade goes by and the trombones are blasting but you just. don't. care.
What does that mean?