It was a scorcher on Saturday. The mercury read 98 °F and it felt like 107 °F. Any sane people would have stayed hard by their air conditioning, but not us. With some deference to the heat, we drove downtown instead of bicycled. That got us there at ten, in plenty of time to get seats to watch the Veiled Prophet Parade. Saint Louis loves its parades and is particularly fond of this one.
For you out-of-towners, the Veiled Prophet is the mythical leader of a secret Saint Louis society that is populated by local business and civic leaders. For 134 years, the Veiled Prophet has done two things, held a ball every winter to celebrate the coming out of their debutant daughters and holding a parade in the summer. The ball is by invitation only, but everyone is welcome at the parade.
Anne and I found a shady spot to watch the passing spectacle and sat back, watched the parade and took lots of pictures. After the parade, we trooped down to the Arch grounds and watch as much of the air show as the temperature would allow us. Afterwards we walked back to the car, melting all the way. By the time we made it back home we were two puddles of melted humanity. We spent the rest of the day recovering and recongealing.