Festivals

Whether you're in a small town in rural America or a big cosmopolitan city, local festivals are pretty similar. You have local guys in hokey costumes honoring their heritage, silly games that help raise money for something locally meaningful.

You'd think that when you're wandering around like we have been, you'd lose a sense of belonging & community. It's not turning out to be so. In the first place we have great friends everywhere we've been, so there's a warmth & welcome that might not be present if we were strangers on our own. But I think it's also that these humble little celebrations grant some escape from our gadget laden, time pressured, bling studded daily lives & bring us back together in a way that's not so common these days. The guy in the dunk tank could be the owner of the local hardware store, or a farmer, or a Silicon Valley millionaire. Or just the poor schmuck whose wife was in charge of the dunk tank this year ;p They throw out the same candy in the parade that they did when I was a little girl excited for Blossom Time. I'm not sure some of that candy hasn't been in the cupboard that long. And kids of all ages, still get all excited about seeing who can get the most.
At the Columbus Day parade the tossing got pretty humorous. The Columbus meat company was tossing out (individually packaged) salami sandwiches, which were very popular. The parade came to a virtual standstill while they competed to see who could throw the most sandwiches into a 2nd floor window above our heads. It wasn't the guy whose sandwich landed on my head. They even had a karaoke singer belting out Italian - well, Italian American, maybe, in the style of Deano & Frank - tunes.

The Oktoberfest in Campbell wasn't quite as authentic or nostalgic. German food & culture were in short supply, and virtually the only people in "folk dress" were some young ladies who bought their dirndls at Fredrick's of Hollywood. But there were fun bands, good beer & good friends in a cute little downtown. Overall, a fun time.
The Polk Street Blues festival was a few weeks ago and I'm delinquent in writing about it. It was in the Russian Hill neighborhood of San Fran, where we were staying. Big city, and you can still run into people you know at the neighborhood festival, even when you're new. That was followed by the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival in Golden Gate Park. No silly games at these unless you count "try to avoid letting the homeless guy crush your feet while dancing." But what could be a more classic San Francisco experience than watching Joan Baez in Golden Gate Park, while surrounded by hippies and "incense?" I didn't know if it was 2010 or 1970.

All these experiences take me back to a time when life was a little simpler, I didn't care about the corporate ladder, and it was easy to just let go and have fun. It's good practice.