fullygoldy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fullygoldy) wrote2006-07-16 09:18 am
fullygoldy) wrote2006-07-16 09:18 am
Our Town
I have to say it again, "I LOVE our town." It is so SQUARE!
God, I love our town!! If you ask me, it's as close to heaven as a city can get.
And don't even get me started on next month.rougebitch has aptly renamed it "the day of public drunkenness," but it's real name is "The Great Taste of the Midwest." The midwest's largest, most popular, most exclusive beer festival, where 5000 or so beer fiends will descend upon Olin Turville Park and drink themselves silly. If you didn't get your tickets the first week of May, we won't be seeing you there. You'd think with these conditions, there'd be fisticuffs galore, but these are the happiest, politest drunks you'll ever meet. We're all just so damn grateful to be there, tasting the fantastic lagers, ales & meads, thrilled to meet the brewers and hear about their trials and inspiration, delighted to see friends we've made in the past, that we only see here, once a year. It's another fantastic recurring event hosted in our town, but this one isn't held on the square.
What's not to love? (and hey, that's rhetorical, okay? don't be killing my buzz in comments today)
Last Saturday was the "Art Fair on the Square" and it's companion "Off the Square." Yes, it's hot and crazily crowded, and most everything offered (that I have any interest in) is waay out of my price range, but. But. But. I love going down there and experiencing the thing. I always see something amazing, and I usually spend the rest of the day imagining ways to free up the cash to bring it home. This year it was a reproduction painting of a blue labrador lounging on a beige sofa. The size I wanted cost $950. I could swing it, if I didn't want to pay my property taxes this month... The lab looked so much like Cosmo, except for being crayola blue, that I just had to have him. Only not. I could have spent $45 on a very small, matted print, but it just would not be the same. And hey, has anyone else noticed (as DH pointed out) that the food available at the art fair is pretty much always better than at the "Taste of Our Town?" Isn't that just weird?
Last Wednesday was the third installment of this year's "Concerts on the Square." The program was certainly not high-brow. It was a review of well-loved and recognizable musicals called "Some Enchanted Evening." There were guest vocalists (a married couple - tenor & soprano). The weather was perfect, the sky was blue, the breeze blew through the trees. We spread a blanket with 30,000 of our closest friends to dine al fresco and be serenaded. If there is any way possible to attend, DH and I are always there. It's at the top of our list of things to do in the summer. Six Wednesdays of incredible community every year. After 7 years, I still find it amazing that so many people can gather on the capitol lawn, bring their own food & beverages (including alcohol) and peacefully enjoy the program and each other's company. I've never seen a single altercation. If you don't feel like packing or toting your picnic, you can always find something delectable to purchase from a street vendor (including alcohol). People of every age, race and walk in our town convene on this spot to collectively appreciate the free (except for parking) concerts. I've seen college students and high school students with and without their parents, grandparents with their grandchildren, couples on dates, multi-generational and multi-racial families. We've shared corkscrews and blankets and food with total strangers, and have come to be friends with certain folks we see week after week, year after year. How can you not love something this fabulous?
Yesterday, DH and I went downtown a little late for the Farmer's Market because we were more interested in watching "Paddle and Portage." I love this race. I loved it when we were doing it, and I'm sad that we've only done it twice. The first summer we were here, we hadn't yet been introduced to paddling, by our guru bzdchris. The second year, we'd gone canoeing for the first time in April, and in June I saw the flyer for the race. "Come on, honey," I cajoled. "We can totally do this. We have six whole weeks to train!" I know DH wondered who the hell I was, and where had I stashed his non-athletic wife, but he finally capitualted. And really, people decide to race this thing on a whim, with no prior experience or preparation. How hard can it be? You paddle 1.5 miles in one lake, carry the canoe 1.5 miles across the isthmus and around the ubiquitous Square, and paddle 1.5 mile in the other lake. Easy! We had a wonderful experience, meaning we did not capsize, we finished (not last), and we didn't kill ourselves or each other in the process. Several of our new friends came out to the finish line to cheer for us and give us sandwiches and beverages afterward. It took the rest of the weekend for us to recover, but by Sunday night, we were saying "next year we'll..." LOL. The second year was just as successful, including finishing in the top 100 (out of ~300). But after that, health concerns and injuries have kept us sidelined. So this was the first time we ever watched the race. We stood at the top of Hamilton Street, which is the end of the first uphill section of the portage. We cheered and clapped for everyone who went by. The leaders were terribly fit, and had a huge lead already. The first woman racer to go by was among the first 10 boats to pass. I love seeing the kids race with their dads (I didn't see any moms with kids this year) in the "over-under" category. We were in the mixed couples category, and we saw several teams that could have been us. There are very few all-female teams, but they get a lot of cheering and encouragement when they go by.
I know I'm an emotional wreck, but I couldn't help it. At several points yesterday, I started to cry. If I had given in to it, I would have been a sobbing mess, and would have missed most of the race. I know how hard it is to get to that point in the race. It was always fun and gratifying to participate, but that doesn't mean it wasn't hard. It is about endurance as much as it's about speed and technique. I loved being in the race and being cheered on, having the race crew hand me a paper cup of water as we went by. I was missing being in it, and I was proud of the people doing it, and I was overcome with all of my emotions and fears. What if I never get to do this again? What if I do it again, but I have to do it with another partner? What if my partner-of-choice won't be here to even watch it with me next time? See? Emotional wreckage.
But. But. But. I love this race. Three hundred or so canoes paddled madly in a choppy lake, then carried through downtown traffic (no they don't close the streets!), skirting the farmer's market, being cheered by people who don't even know why those crazy people are running through town with canoes on their heads, and then the sprint in a much calmer lake to the finish line. And the party at the finish line! Don't forget the party. LOL All on a blazing hot day in the middle of July.
bzdchris. The second year, we'd gone canoeing for the first time in April, and in June I saw the flyer for the race. "Come on, honey," I cajoled. "We can totally do this. We have six whole weeks to train!" I know DH wondered who the hell I was, and where had I stashed his non-athletic wife, but he finally capitualted. And really, people decide to race this thing on a whim, with no prior experience or preparation. How hard can it be? You paddle 1.5 miles in one lake, carry the canoe 1.5 miles across the isthmus and around the ubiquitous Square, and paddle 1.5 mile in the other lake. Easy! We had a wonderful experience, meaning we did not capsize, we finished (not last), and we didn't kill ourselves or each other in the process. Several of our new friends came out to the finish line to cheer for us and give us sandwiches and beverages afterward. It took the rest of the weekend for us to recover, but by Sunday night, we were saying "next year we'll..." LOL. The second year was just as successful, including finishing in the top 100 (out of ~300). But after that, health concerns and injuries have kept us sidelined. So this was the first time we ever watched the race. We stood at the top of Hamilton Street, which is the end of the first uphill section of the portage. We cheered and clapped for everyone who went by. The leaders were terribly fit, and had a huge lead already. The first woman racer to go by was among the first 10 boats to pass. I love seeing the kids race with their dads (I didn't see any moms with kids this year) in the "over-under" category. We were in the mixed couples category, and we saw several teams that could have been us. There are very few all-female teams, but they get a lot of cheering and encouragement when they go by. I know I'm an emotional wreck, but I couldn't help it. At several points yesterday, I started to cry. If I had given in to it, I would have been a sobbing mess, and would have missed most of the race. I know how hard it is to get to that point in the race. It was always fun and gratifying to participate, but that doesn't mean it wasn't hard. It is about endurance as much as it's about speed and technique. I loved being in the race and being cheered on, having the race crew hand me a paper cup of water as we went by. I was missing being in it, and I was proud of the people doing it, and I was overcome with all of my emotions and fears. What if I never get to do this again? What if I do it again, but I have to do it with another partner? What if my partner-of-choice won't be here to even watch it with me next time? See? Emotional wreckage.
But. But. But. I love this race. Three hundred or so canoes paddled madly in a choppy lake, then carried through downtown traffic (no they don't close the streets!), skirting the farmer's market, being cheered by people who don't even know why those crazy people are running through town with canoes on their heads, and then the sprint in a much calmer lake to the finish line. And the party at the finish line! Don't forget the party. LOL All on a blazing hot day in the middle of July.
God, I love our town!! If you ask me, it's as close to heaven as a city can get.
And don't even get me started on next month.
rougebitch has aptly renamed it "the day of public drunkenness," but it's real name is "The Great Taste of the Midwest." The midwest's largest, most popular, most exclusive beer festival, where 5000 or so beer fiends will descend upon Olin Turville Park and drink themselves silly. If you didn't get your tickets the first week of May, we won't be seeing you there. You'd think with these conditions, there'd be fisticuffs galore, but these are the happiest, politest drunks you'll ever meet. We're all just so damn grateful to be there, tasting the fantastic lagers, ales & meads, thrilled to meet the brewers and hear about their trials and inspiration, delighted to see friends we've made in the past, that we only see here, once a year. It's another fantastic recurring event hosted in our town, but this one isn't held on the square. What's not to love? (and hey, that's rhetorical, okay? don't be killing my buzz in comments today)