Occidental's spring oddity

<p>The fanciful and free-spirited transformed Occidental into a wild dreamscape Saturday as the annual Fools Day Parade rolled through town in a happy riot of pedestrian wackiness.</p><p>Prancing court jesters, beaded bohemians, fairy princesses and pint-sized pirates — hundreds of adults and kids in their West County best — filled the streets to create a communal catwalk like no other. </p><p>Costumed dogs twirled in circles on their leashes while a troupe of dancers on stilts marked time to the horns and drums of a funky marching band, the Graton-based Hubbub Club.</p><p>Canella the llama, decked out in four tutus, led the whole procession. </p><p>“It's a delightful, exquisite celebration of the absurd,” said Janeen Murray, accordionist for the Hubbub Club. </p><p>Now in its seventh year, the parade has evolved into a springtime kickoff for the artistically inclined, including fans of Santa Rosa's Handcar Regatta and devotees of Burning Man, the massive Nevada festival.</p><p>“It's an excuse to bring my costumes out of the closet,” said Sebastopol resident Scott McKeown, a Burning Man veteran who came Saturday dressed as a psychedelic cowboy. </p><p>It has also become a destination for everyday revelers, locals and tourists alike. </p><p>“We'd heard about Californians, but this really puts it into light,” said Amy Astle, who was visiting the area with her husband Jay from Idaho Falls. “We're getting a lot of ideas for Halloween.” </p><p>The youngest participants were some of the most enthusiastic.</p><p>Jennifer Kowalski, 13, of Santa Rosa was strapping on stilts next to her mother. It would be Jennifer's first time walking tall through a public event.</p><p>“Very nervous,” she said with a wide grin.</p><p>Four-year-old Savanna Conwell, of Sebastopol, had a different vantage point. Now in her third Fools Day Parade, Conwell darted through the crowd like it was a family barbecue. </p><p>She wore high-top sneakers, multicolored striped tights, a white tutu, rockabilly sunglasses, a tiara, and a feathered black boa. Trailing her on a leash was a plastic Dalmation puppy on wheels. </p><p>“Crazy!” she said, skipping along. </p><p>At the end of the line, outside the Occidental Center for the Arts, organizers crowned the year's “King of Fools” - actually a queen this year. Her name was lost in the music and cheers of a coronation that employed a ceremonial bathroom plunger and a trip through a decorated outhouse.</p><p>The aim of it all, said Monte Rio resident Debra Newby, who was decked out in a costume she called “Ellen DeGeneres-meets-alien-from-Jupiter,” was to be “joyfully foolish.”</p><p>“I think we need a little more of that," she said. "Don't you?”</p>