With four kids under twelve, family outings can be some expensive shit. So, when possible, we look for things to do on the weekends that are fairly cheap. One of the cheapest, ostensibly, is the ubiquitous town festival. In the summer time, that usually means has-been seventies artists, a "Taste of (insert town name here)", and perhaps a death-mongering carnival.
Fall festivals, on the other hand, tend to be more focused on our agrarian past. Foods and crafts rule the day. This past weekend, our destination was the Apple Fest in Long Grove. Long Grove is a kinda pointless little tchotchke mecca, in the wooded, tony far Northwest suburbs. If jars of apple jalapeño butter are your thing, that's where to go. And if jars of apple jalapeño butter are your thing, you need a better thing.
Coming in to town, we had to wait 10 minutes to pull in to the only available parking lot. There was an attendant at the entrance, who was stopping each car, collecting their parking fee, and directing them where to park. One attendant. Not terribly efficient. When we finally got to the front of the line, the attendant greeted us, "Hi, the Long Grove Community Church has donated their parking lot for the weekend, please park anywhere you'd like." No fee. Taking the hint, "Can we offer a donation?" "No thank you. Jesus loves you."
Ok. Jesus loves me. But needed me to wait in line for 10 minutes to tell me. But I guess I shouldn't look a gift-parking lot-savior in the mouth. As we left the lot, a young boy, stationed near the sidewalk, asked, "Would you like a bottle of water? it's free!" A church elder, standing behind him, shouted excitedly, stepping on his line, "Like Christ's love!"
The Fest was not suitably festive. And our area was burning in Hellfire yesterday. So we didn't stay for long. Certainly not long enough to break the seal on our Jesus water. I threw the bottle in the fridge when we got home. It wasn't until a little dew condensed on the plastic that I noticed that Christ's love for me, in liquid form, was best consumed before 08/07/2007.
5 comments:
We just got back from the Columbus Day Polish Heritage parade. Go figure.
Strangely, though the parade route began at the Polish Catholic church, there was no Christ's love to be found at the parade, liquid form or otherwise.
No pierogies either, damn it, but they did toss the kid some Polish candies. No expiration date.
Jesus called. He said to say that he doesn't love love you. He just loves you. But not in that way. So stop calling him.
The last time I parked my infant Jesus in that lot, He was broken into.
I would've thought any Long Grove festival would put the fear of God into anyone.
Just ask Dilf about the Long Grove Strawberry Festival.
Also, Polish people are not very placid. My grandma kicked some major ass.
Why does Jesus keep calling me at 3am crying and shit like that?
Its pretty pathetic.
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