Still Jammin--a Repost
Dad! We're all up. Come on!
Coffee.
Da-aadd!
Zoë, I need coffee.
I've got to admire her spunk. For some crazy reason we look forward to this weekend all year long. Comfest. The name says it all, doesn't it? What? It doesn't? How about Community Festival? Better? As far as Zoë is concerned, anything that deems itself worthy of the name festival demands her presence. The girl likes to party!
And so it shall be. We are preparing ourselves this morning for the 8th consecutive trek to Comfest. Damn the weather reports. There's a festival happening out there and we're off to be festive. I'll let you know how it goes. Until then, why don't you read about last year's Comfest. Rather than link it (I know, we get lazy and hate to click a link) I'll just repost. Enjoy, and hope your weekend is as festive as ours.
Jam On, You Hippie Freaks! (originally posted June 24, 2007)
The streak is still alive, seven years and counting. In an otherwise quiet park located just north of the arena district downtown every June for the past 35 years a three day festival is held. I heard somewhere that it is the oldest free music festival in the country. Is that true? I don't know. But Zoë, at the ripe old age of six has just celebrated her seventh Comfest. She was 5 months old that first time.
Now a seasoned veteran, mere mention of Comfest and she excitedly exclaims, "New tie-dye!" She even helps weave through the hordes of festival go-ers to find the tie-dye booth. This year she helped pick new outfits for the entire family. I got a little teary-eyed just watching her. Wait, that was from the smoke billowing over from the rib kiosk, which we also patronized.
The festival is billed as a family friendly place where you can just kick back and soak up the "vibe of an enviable exercise in participatory democracy." Loosely translated, I think that means you get to drink lots of cheap beer, share a bong with your buddies (or a stranger) and paint your bare breasts like something that vagely resembles a holly leaf and berries and amble through the park half naked walking your unleashed, frequently crapping irish wolfhound as your stoned entourage plays hackey sack and flings frisbees all the while listening to your favorite local bands from every genre you can imagine and even some you can't. Hint...should anyone ever mention to you, "Let's go check out that chick that does the sweet uke wailing", punch them very hard for even suggesting it and run away.
I'm not sure if the festival has changed all that much over these past seven years or just me. Maybe now that Zoë is noticing more of the world around her I, too am starting to take notice. Don't get me wrong here, I love the festival. I'm just not sure how much longer we can really bill this thing as family friendly. I'm not trying to shelter my kids from the reality of the world around them but I have to stop and ask myself, "At what point in my children's lives do I want them to realize that there are people in this world who are even more crazy than their dad?"
So, is the streak over? Will we make it eight years in a row? I'm not so sure. My overall resolve to make the yearly trek was in all honesty dampened this year not by the looming clouds but the reality that my little girl is getting older and I'm not going to be able to shelter her from the rest of the world forever. Maybe I'm just trying to hang on a bit.
I've never been a big coddler and I'm a horrible liar. When she asks me questions, big questions, I just can't seem to help myself. I've got to be honest. Case in point:
Zoë: Is she allowed to take her shirt off? (refferring to the girl with the painted breasts in the port-a-john line two people in front of us)
Me: Allowed? (Pausing) Unfortunately, yes she is allowed.
Zoë: Oh. (a standard Zoë response)
Me: Should she? Absolutely not. (the list is long and sorted and far be it from me to mash anyone's mellow so I'll suffice it to say--"Bad paint job!")
Coffee.
Da-aadd!
Zoë, I need coffee.
I've got to admire her spunk. For some crazy reason we look forward to this weekend all year long. Comfest. The name says it all, doesn't it? What? It doesn't? How about Community Festival? Better? As far as Zoë is concerned, anything that deems itself worthy of the name festival demands her presence. The girl likes to party!
And so it shall be. We are preparing ourselves this morning for the 8th consecutive trek to Comfest. Damn the weather reports. There's a festival happening out there and we're off to be festive. I'll let you know how it goes. Until then, why don't you read about last year's Comfest. Rather than link it (I know, we get lazy and hate to click a link) I'll just repost. Enjoy, and hope your weekend is as festive as ours.
Jam On, You Hippie Freaks! (originally posted June 24, 2007)
The streak is still alive, seven years and counting. In an otherwise quiet park located just north of the arena district downtown every June for the past 35 years a three day festival is held. I heard somewhere that it is the oldest free music festival in the country. Is that true? I don't know. But Zoë, at the ripe old age of six has just celebrated her seventh Comfest. She was 5 months old that first time.
Now a seasoned veteran, mere mention of Comfest and she excitedly exclaims, "New tie-dye!" She even helps weave through the hordes of festival go-ers to find the tie-dye booth. This year she helped pick new outfits for the entire family. I got a little teary-eyed just watching her. Wait, that was from the smoke billowing over from the rib kiosk, which we also patronized.
The festival is billed as a family friendly place where you can just kick back and soak up the "vibe of an enviable exercise in participatory democracy." Loosely translated, I think that means you get to drink lots of cheap beer, share a bong with your buddies (or a stranger) and paint your bare breasts like something that vagely resembles a holly leaf and berries and amble through the park half naked walking your unleashed, frequently crapping irish wolfhound as your stoned entourage plays hackey sack and flings frisbees all the while listening to your favorite local bands from every genre you can imagine and even some you can't. Hint...should anyone ever mention to you, "Let's go check out that chick that does the sweet uke wailing", punch them very hard for even suggesting it and run away.
I'm not sure if the festival has changed all that much over these past seven years or just me. Maybe now that Zoë is noticing more of the world around her I, too am starting to take notice. Don't get me wrong here, I love the festival. I'm just not sure how much longer we can really bill this thing as family friendly. I'm not trying to shelter my kids from the reality of the world around them but I have to stop and ask myself, "At what point in my children's lives do I want them to realize that there are people in this world who are even more crazy than their dad?"
So, is the streak over? Will we make it eight years in a row? I'm not so sure. My overall resolve to make the yearly trek was in all honesty dampened this year not by the looming clouds but the reality that my little girl is getting older and I'm not going to be able to shelter her from the rest of the world forever. Maybe I'm just trying to hang on a bit.
I've never been a big coddler and I'm a horrible liar. When she asks me questions, big questions, I just can't seem to help myself. I've got to be honest. Case in point:
Zoë: Is she allowed to take her shirt off? (refferring to the girl with the painted breasts in the port-a-john line two people in front of us)
Me: Allowed? (Pausing) Unfortunately, yes she is allowed.
Zoë: Oh. (a standard Zoë response)
Me: Should she? Absolutely not. (the list is long and sorted and far be it from me to mash anyone's mellow so I'll suffice it to say--"Bad paint job!")
Have a blast guys! After you get caffeinated of course!
We have a new formula on the dry erase board. 4 is less than or equal to x which is less than or equal to 5.
That's the magic number of scoops for a pot of coffee. Not the 10 scoops Zoe put in there. I was definitely caffeinated!
My Zoe loves to party, too! No matter what kind of party it is, it is supposed to involve cake. That's always her first question when the word "party" comes up. "What kind of cake will there be?"
Hope you all have a great time!
Yeah, "family friendly" to me evokes images of face painting, not body painting. Something askew in the marketing there...
It wasn't in the brochure.