Festival Season Arrives

It’s festival season. This time each year, we celebrate everything from the harvest and monster trucks to the area’s covered bridges.

Whenever you hear someone opine that there’s nothing to do around here, they obviously aren’t talking about September.

There’s so much going on, it reminds me of something old-time movie star Mae West once said: “Too much of a good thing is — wonderful!”

By the way, if you think Britney, Paris or Lindsey are scandalous, you should check out Mae West’s story some time. She makes them look like a bunch of Sunday school teachers.

And wonderful these festivals are, with lots of food, music, fun and noise. But the best thing of also is the sense of community that is revived each time I attend one of these festivals. I’m not talking joining hands around a campfire and singing “Kumbaya.” Rather, it’s a time to visit with folks I don’t normally see on a regular basis. I spend my weeks sequestered in Salem, trying to avoid the bums that inhabit the neighborhood where I work — and no, I’m not talking about the Capitol.

By the time I get home, I may get a chance to stop by the hardware store or the grocery store and that’s about it. I just don’t have a lot of time to chit-chat.

When I get to a festival, though, I’m in full chit-chat mode. And so is everyone else.

For example, I spent part of Saturday at the Covered Bridge Festival in Stayton and part of Sunday at Oktoberfest in Mount Angel. Between the two, I got a heaping helping of chit-chat, and it was just what the doctor ordered.

Too often, folks tend to seal themselves off in their houses or apartments. They might read or watch television or something else,  but they don’t give themselves the opportunity to get out and mingle with the world at large.

If they did, they’d find out a lot about both themselves and their neighbors.

For example, during the weekend, our 10-year-old was drafted into the Union Army by a Civil War re-enactor. He told our son that, as long as he was over 18, he could sign up. When my son informed him that he was only 10, the man pulled out a piece of paper with “18” written on it and put it on the ground. He then told my son to stand on the piece of paper.

“There, you’re over 18 now,” he said proudly.

On the train ride, the engineer asked what the state fish of Hawaii was. Of course, anyone knows that it’s the humuhumunukunukuapuaa.

People are truly amazing. They’re funny, clever, kind and giving, of themselves and their time.

And nothing demonstrates those very human qualities so much as when people get together at a festival and share each other’s good company.

My only regret about going to these festivals is that I don’t have enough time to work on the very important home improvement projects I have under way at my house.

Darn.

Oh, well, the projects can wait for another week. There’s a corndog out there with my name on it!