We live in a tiny community and we went to the local annual festival for the first time. This was about as dinky and hometown as you can get. The parade was, well, short. Had it not been an election year it would have consisted of 1 fire truck, and 1 ambulance, 1 church float, 1 group of baton twirlers and 1 vintage car. Not a marching band in sight. This is not right, people.
I felt SO sorry for the vendors, because this event was so poorly attended. I'm sure many lost money.
Except the $5 a pop bungee dude. He was makin' some serious moolah. He made ten bucks off us.
They had the obligatory pony rides, jumping activities and miniature trains. The kids had fun, at least! Hubby's favorite BBQ man was there, so we all had a plate of smoky heaven. Well, Hubby had a little more than that. He was so excited that he bought a half chicken at 10:00, then when we all ate together for lunch he had another, then when the kiddies didn't like theirs he finished them. He ate approximately half a flock of chickens.
While we ate, we enjoyed a singing group from a local church. I felt sorry for them also because nobody clapped for them except for us! I missed clapping for the first song or two because my hands were full of chicken and a squirming Screech, but even when we fervently clapped for all the other songs, almost no one joined us. There were a lot of seniors in the audience with their arms folded. I think they were a little offended by the drums.
We browsed the vendor booths and, with much restraint, managed not to buy any Capri Sun purses, marshmallow guns or pine knickknack shelves with cheap lace hot glued onto the edges. I did buy some fireworks for the kids, which being sold as a fundraiser by the local fire department.
Yes, that was, "by the local fire department."
It's a racket, I tell you.