Wendy and I made a trip down to Hampdenfest Saturday afternoon. This weekend she was eager to get out of the house; the start of classes has a way of doing that to teachers, I think. Anyway, we found miraculous parking on Keswick, two blocks from where the Avenue ends, and walked the length of the festival.
I have to admit I was a little bit underwhelmed, but I don’t really blame the festival per se. For the massive number of newly-minted nuclear families with babies in strollers, it must have been novel, the collection of food and arts + crafts. But I’ve had friends in Hampden for a long time now, so getting a bite to eat from the Golden West was not quite as exciting as probably it should have been. But then, it may not be that long before I’m pushing a stroller myself, God help me…
We made it to the end of the festival, where at the Squaaks were playing at the Atomic Books stage. And again, the music was credible and kind of catchy but I couldn’t really get into it. My mind kept wandering and my eyes kept scanning across the crowd, watching other people react to it instead of reacting myself. Who knows? Maybe it was the humidity.
After the set wrapped up, a man maybe a few years younger than me came up to me and asked, “Are you a musician?” For some reason he seemed like an actor in a play — his clothes were immaculate, well-tailored, seemed as though they had never been worn by a real person before.
“No,” I said.
“Good,” he said. “I’m collecting signatures for this petition–”
He held out a clipboard with a fifth-generation photocopy of the old anti-music petition from two years ago. “Sorry, man,” I said, “I can’t help you.”
The man frowned and said, “Yeah, we’ll see what you think when they’re running this country.”
And the truth is, it’s not that hard to imagine them winning the election in November — but then, I really do believe America gets the government it deserves.
Permalink
·
0 comments
Tagged festivals, politics
