Among all the pomp and pageantry of the Freedom Festival Grand Parade in Provo on Friday morning, perhaps most splendid of all was the cooperative weather.

"It was a nice, cloudy day," said Tara Mayoros, who was among a group of 20-plus family members who watched the parade at its terminus at 900 East and Center Street. "It was not so hot."

Kathleen Kelly and Neil Ransom of Salt Lake City, who also watched near the parade's end point, called the weather perfect.

"So much better than expected," said Kelly.

The parade kicked off at 9 a.m. with a military fly-over that drew the first applause from the waiting crowd, at least along Center Street. Colonial musketeers opened the parade and were followed by karate performers shouting, "Who wants to break a board?" Young and old clamored to be chosen.

The Orem 9th Samoan Ward of the LDS Church was also an opening act, performing traditional dances dressed in Samoan garb. Singing, grunting, pounding their fists and stomp-dancing, the performers revved up the crowd.

In addition to the usual myriad of business-sponsored floats and others from LDS Church groups, Darth Vader made an appearance again this year, perhaps the only parade celebrity -- excepting Governor Jon Huntsman Jr. -- who required his own security.

Vader was repeatedly begged to pause for photos, and most of the time plainclothes assistants told those lining the route that the ever-in-demand Mr. Vader simply "cannot stop."

Governor Huntsman, on the other hand, ran ahead of his security, jogging along the crowd on both sides of the street touching the hands of the public like a rock star lapping at the edges of a concert crowd. Even at the end of the parade, several in the crowd commented that he seemed fresh and vigorous, full of energy. Lt. Gov. Gary Herbert rode in a car behind his boss, taking in the cheers from his hometown crowd.

In a parade that was more or less devoid of freebies thrown to the crowd -- at least at the end of the parade route -- a couple of moments stood out.

A packaging company called Kimac threw out -- rolled, actually --¬ huge volumes of bottled water to the crowd, which the children joyfully lunged for in lieu of candy -- and more than a few children and their parents and this reporter immediately opened the bottles, chugging the cool water down.

Notably, Provo Councilwoman Cindy Richards also threw some candy to waiting children. A few other participants squirted the crowd with water. The Orem Northridge Stake float spit water from a giant soda straw.

The parade was ebullient with patriotism. A wave of people lining both sides of the street stood, hand over their heart, to honor the American Flag as it made its way down the parade route. And the most thunderous applause of the day -- and a standing ovation -- was given to war veterans riding modern and historic military vehicles. Among the most lauded were Albert J. Schumann, a World War II vet, and Lloyd Liddiard, a Pearl Harbor survivor. Freedom Award recipients were also applauded loudly.

And there were moments of comic relief. One of two youth playing pooper-scooper behind the Utah County Sheriff's Posse decided to get some love from the crowd at the end of the route.

"Can't we get any applause?" one of the youth yelled to the crowd with a wide smile. He was rewarded as requested.

The parade was, as usual, opportunity for some. One youth was spotted selling cotton candy, and several more were in demand selling frozen flavored ice treats three for $1. Also in the crowd, someone carried a banner that asked those gathered to demand that Congress repeal the 16th amendment, which specifies that "the Congress shall have power to lay and collect taxes on incomes, from whatever source derived, without apportionment among the several states, and without regard to any census or enumeration."

As perhaps an unwitting finale, the cannon that brought up the end of the parade -- causing some very small children to scream in terror -- blew a large smoke ring onto the street, which skimmed the road for a few moments, gliding on inertia, then dissipating as if a mirage, not unlike the glittering spectacle of the parade itself.