Excerpt:
Chapter 1 - Happy New Year!

t half-past three o’clock in the morning on New Year’s Day, the floats are lined up in silence along Orange Grove Boulevard in Pasadena, California, guarded by police officers and men and women who wear white suits.

The Rose Queen and her Princesses are waking up and taking their showers, ready to be transported to the Tournament House, where hairdressers and makeup artists are assembling to prepare them for their royal ride down Colorado Boulevard.

A fleet of white Honda vans with the Tournament Rose emblazoned on their sides is heading for appointed assignments.

The President of the Tournament of Roses and his or her family are throwing back their bedcovers after a very brief sleep, having stayed up until the early hours of the morning while the floats have submitted to the final judging.

Stephanie Edwards is up and getting dressed in “layers,” so that she will be comfortable as the temperature fluctuates throughout the day. She is scheduled to meet Bob Eubanks at the KTLA studio by 4:30 a.m.

The judges, having determined which floats will be heralded with prize banners during the parade, have been escorted to their hotels for a few hours of well-deserved rest.

Teams of reporters and commentators are arising and stretching and heading for the Tournament House, headquarters of the Pasadena Tournament of Roses Association, ready to interview the Grand Marshal and other important dignitaries.

Camera operators are testing equipment and checking timelines.

Beautiful horses, which have been stabled at the Los Angeles Equestrian Center in Burbank, are now receiving their pre-parade grooming and adornments in the area commonly known as “the Pit.”

Yawning teenagers are waking up and taking their showers and taming their hairstyles firmly, in preparation for donning their spotless band and drill team uniforms.

Outside, along the five and one-half mile parade route, thousands of people sleep fitfully in sleeping bags on cots and pads and air mattresses, holding the sidewalk spots they have selected for viewing the parade.

Great grandstands wait in the chilly darkness along the route, ready for the folks who have purchased their 24 inches of seating space for the morning.

The VIP stand on Orange Grove Boulevard is already brightly lit in anticipation of the pre-parade show that will take place there just before the Parade begins.

Nine hundred thirty-five white-suited volunteers are moving cheerfully about, manning street barriers that protect the crowds from vehicular interference, making sure that muddy spots below the stand areas are covered with wood shavings, checking identification for all who enter restricted areas, and performing 1,001 other duties that will ensure that the Tournament runs perfectly.

The parade will start at 8:01:30 a.m., Pacific Standard Time, and there is much to be done between now and then.

Most Americans, even those on the East Coast, are still sound asleep after celebrating into the wee, small hours of the morning, toasting the arrival of a new year and resolving to make this one better than last. They will wake in a few hours, brew steaming pots of coffee or hot chocolate, and turn to their televisions, where review footage of Times Square’s descending ball and Auld Lang Syne is about to be replaced by live coverage of marching bands, equestrian units, and the applause that greets each beautiful float. They will watch a show that is viewed by more people around the world than any other. The show will take two hours and ten minutes, and it will appear to run effortlessly. The floats will be lovely and the horses will prance and the bands will stride proudly, and the television commentators will try to convey to the viewers the incredible details of float construction and the interesting facts about each parade entry. It is a wonderful tradition, more than a century.

Throughout my years of Tournament involvement, I have often heard people ask questions about what goes on behind the scenes of the Tournament:

“How do those old cars handle the slow speed for the entire parade?”

“What happens if someone on a float needs to use the restroom?”

“When do the floatbuilders begin their work?”

“How do they make sure that all of those thousands of volunteers know where to glue the flowers on the floats?”

“Who decides what bands get to march in the parade?”

“How does someone get to be the Rose Queen?”

I decided that someone ought to write a book that answered some of those questions, if only for prospective White Suiters in Pasadena. When I mentioned some of my stories to Jim Burns, President of Uber Advertising in Upland, he told me about Stephens Press and convinced me that parade-watchers worldwide might be interested in the workings of the huge event. He and my colleague, Nancy Sinclair, introduced me to Carolyn Uber, Chris Wheeler, and Laura Adams, and all of us went to work. Now you have joined us, reading this book and thereby becoming part of the Tournament family. I hope that you will enjoy learning about the spirit and passion behind, during, underneath, and around all of the pageantry.

Welcome to Pasadena, my friend! And Happy New Year!