Fall Festivals Are The 'In' Thing

Is there a community in America that doesn't celebrate a Fall festival? I don't think so. The wife and I have attended more than our share, mostly to get out of the house.

One year, and don't ask me why, we motored sixty miles north of Columbus, Ohio to the town of Marion. Their celebration is called 'Popcorn Days'. There can't be a cornstalk within 100 miles of Marion and yet here they were borrowing from some other town that could use the notoriety.

What it did have was a cheesy carnival with actual carny folk; the kind who don't bathe or change clothes until what they have on disintegrates from sweat and grime. Marion Popcorn Days isn't on our 'return to' list.

Boone Iowa, my home town, instituted a festival a few short years ago called Pufferbilly Days. This moniker refers to the railroads and how they dominated our landscape for over one hundred fifty years. It's a big deal if you happen to live in Boone. It's so huge the high school band even shows up to march in the parade. There's a special train from the 1950's that runs eight miles out and back if you like that sort of gig.

Our current residence in Dublin Ohio, has two festivals. I guess we think we're hot stuff. The first is the annual St. Patrick's Day Parade. We've gone a couple of times. Primarily, it was an excuse to have our grandchildren over for a visit and give them something to do plus it's free. They've seen it twice and that's enough for them. That means it's enough for us, too.
The other Dublin Festival occurs in August. That's the biggie. It's the largest three day Irish festival in the world. Who da' thunk it.

Anyway, it doesn't take a nuclear physicist to understand the main reason for these gatherings is to make money on the suckers who have to fork over for parking, entrance fees, food, drink and all other non-essentials. For a good deal of the population it's the best excuse in the world for all day inebriation. In addition, there will be vendors under white tents hawking their wares showing all varieties of items you'd never buy if a banker gave you the money.

So, with nothing on our calendar for yesterday morning we trekked into Walker Minnesota, population 900, to witness the Walker EthnicFest.

Hey guys.  This is northern Minnesota. There are two nationalities in this part of the state: American Indian and Norwegian. That's it. But the town fathers in their infinite wisdom scrounged up sixteen flags from other nations and hung them atop the highest building which happens to be the local VFW.
All of the downtown stores were open and one could buy t-shirts with fish slogans, "Have a Crappie Day". Cute, huh? The taverns were doing a brisk business but, sadly, no one was selling lutefisk.

The crowd lined the streets early for the annual parade, at least one deep, on each side of  Main Street aka Highway 200 . A flat bed truck stood alongside the main drag and an announcer with a microphone announced that any cars still on the street when the parade started would be towed away. Most of the visitors asked the question, "What parade"?

And finally, the big event began. A group of Cub Scouts led it off carrying American flags. We politely applauded. It was then that a man next to me looked up in the sky and noticed five geese flying low over the lads. That's when he said, "Our Chamber of Commerce has planned for everything. We even have our own flyover".

Surprisingly, the parade lasted over an hour. There were so few participants, fifteen in all, that each group was spaced out a city block and then required to wait until the master of ceremonies gave them the go ahead. Two cars ran out of gas waiting to move. Finally, the city was able to tow someone. There was plenty of candy and toys being throw out of trucks but most of them ran out early because the providers had to wait so long to move. And get this, the town is only four blocks long.

My least favorite float was a pontoon boat; no writing, no streamers, no advertising. It was a pontoon boat in name only. I think they were a last minute replacement for Bills' Rod and Bait Shop. A couple of Norwegian bands made their appearance. They looked exactly like those Amish folks but there I go, stereotyping again. They were also on flatbed trucks. In our area the mode of transportation is either some type of boat and trailer or a flat bed. Take your pick.

Next to last came a group of six blacks playing the Blues. In my twenty years in this area I've never seen a black person. And to make matters worse there wasn't one flag from the continent of Africa atop the VFW.

The best part of the parade, aside from it being over, was the last group in attendance. Thirty or more from the Ojibwa Indian tribe in full regalia did their dances along with a number of Indian chants. The tribe ranged in age from wee to old with men and women alike. Why, it was just like a Randolph Scott movie from the 50's.

You should have been here. It had Popcorn Days beat all to heck.