This evening we took the gang to the Italian American Festival. This is located in a huge park, but up until seven years ago took place on the streets of The Burg (Chambersburg) in Trenton, when it was known as the Feast of Lights. Now all the Italians (Neapolitans with a sprinkling of Sicilian) are taking their aesthetic of concrete to the suburbs (apparently there has always been a certain deviation in The Burg's economic activities, but recent demographic shifts have led to these aberrations having a more public character than the Italians approve of), and the festival has moved as well.
I hope that the residents had fun, and it's likely they did since we ate junk food, which is one of their all-time favorite activities (okay, I don't cry at the prospect, either). For me it was non-stop count and recount, as the place was packed and all of my little flock has a tendency to wander off. A marionette display snagged one, and I had to fight my way back up the human stream (with another resident attached at the hand, but inclined to plant her feet widely apart and then not budge) to gather him back in. I realize now that I should have been happy over the potency-hovering-on-act of so many lost sheep to find and rejoice more over than if they had never been lost, but I wasn't. The end result is that I saw little of the scenery. Of course, it was all vendor tents, so it's no huge loss.
I wonder a little bit at what the point of carnivals is. There is only so much food that one can take on board while still being able to walk comfortably back to one's car. I recently discovered that it is fun to go on the rides, but this one had very few rides, and they were primarily of the go up slowly come down quickly variety. Now the dropping-suddenly-through-space theme is a staple in my dreams, but never yet have I greeted it by clapping my hands and saying, "The only way this could be better is if I paid $4 first!" Maybe if you've lived in that area for a long time you could spend the time wandering from acquaintance to distant relative, which can be fun. Or maybe you could spend it gossiping about but not talking to these people, which is even better.
In Seattle I qualified as a house-plant, but I think that in New Jersey I am the equivalent of a natural woman. My favorite part of the evening was the night drive home, and I think I would have really enjoyed the park minus the carnival. As we were parking, we saw a small fawn lost among the cars, a bit of the way things should be plunged bewilderingly into the way things are.
