The Fourth of July came and went, and fortunately we all were spared a sunburn on what proved to be cloudy and windswept. While the lake goers fled to their favorite body of water, we found ourselves moseying across the bridge on Burdick for the first annual Minot Shrine Club parade.

I grew up in a farm depot in the southwest corner, so it goes without saying this wasn’t my first rodeo, but our toddler November was amped to get a chance to see cool cars, firetrucks, and all the usual trappings that go along with the proverbial parade. My wife decked the kid out in pigtails and face paint, so we looked like we had already endured a day’s worth of festivities before we even headed out the door.

We quickly found a parking spot, which was surprising considering the crowd that lined both sides of Burdick for several blocks near the entrance to Roosevelt Park and the Zoo. Minot has gone without a Fourth of July parade since the early aughts, and based on the turnout from the public the decision by the Shriners to bring it back was a welcome one. The organization only had a few weeks to get the whole affair together after the city gave them approval, and their website said there would be no charge for parade units, asking instead for donations for their charity efforts and to encourage local participation.

In my parochial experience the parade pretty much delivered as far as length and the variety of vehicles and participants. Though she has shown a great deal of interest in “Big Cars” recently, November informed me later her favorite part was the two pixie sticks another generous kid gave her.

While November was entirely content to guzzle down those tubes of sugar before we headed over to the festivities in the park, I couldn’t help but to feel disappointment on her behalf for her empty repurposed flower girl basket. Based on certain public discourse, I wasn’t the only one projecting Millennial entitlement built by our childhood experiences running amok as we filled shopping bags to bursting.

The cynic in me wants to view parades as nothing more than an opportunity for local advertising, a means of centralizing and attracting eyeballs. At best, they are an excellent excuse to leave the house for some social interaction. Everything boils down to one thing, and that is the question of what exactly it is we are all supposed to get out of events like this? What is the ideal payoff for civic engagement?

For November, what took primacy were the Pixie Sticks in all their sugary glory that fueled back-to-back runs through a bounce house obstacle course at the park. It did involve waiting in a long line, but that’s part of the experience too, isn’t it? Life doesn’t always come with a fast pass, and I’m apparently turning into the dad from “Calvin and Hobbes” extolling the virtues of character building.

It doesn’t take much to distract a three-year-old from the ills of the larger world, but for adults, it’s no easy task to accomplish the same. Unplugging from my Skinner Box loop and being present is something I admittedly struggle with, and it’s safe to say I’m not the only one. Which is why I often wind up grateful when Angie drags us out of the house for one thing or another even though I do grumble about these outings taking me away from every other thing in our lives clamoring for our attentions.

By disconnecting from the Endless Present and filtering out the larger world for just a little bit, it’s a lot easier to plug into the more intimate and truer world that actually surrounds us. They are a chance to gather and reconnect with family and neighbors, to turn strangers into friends, to shake off the barriers and layers of social alienation woven into far too many aspects of modern life.

Everyone involved in Tuesday’s parade deserves a great deal of credit, and if you were amongst those who attended, they deserve your thanks and appreciation. No matter what gripes or grousing may be uttered, whether its warranted or not, they still put in the honest effort to create an opportunity to support the holistic wellbeing of the community. It is trite, but it is fair to say that when it comes to civic engagement, you get out what you put in, so hopefully there’s increased participation now that we all have a year to get ready for the next one.

The cornfield told Kevin Costner in “Field of Dreams” that if he “built it, they would come,” but in the real world, one still must show up for the things we want in our community to ensure our shared experiences flourish to their fullest potential. That and making sure there’s enough pixie sticks and porta potties to go around.