05 June 2009

Urban and Rural

Okay so Miss Vicki and I are out cruising around on a nice weekend, and on the way home, traveling NOT via interstates, so that one can see the real america. We happen across a hand painted road-sign that says "Craft Fair Up Ahead"

We could use a break so we decide to stop. In the next little county, at their little fairgrounds, they have signs up and the whole area roped off. The local Lions Club has sponsored this Craft Fair. So we parked and walked up and it was $5 each for us to enter.  We paid and started strolling around. and got slowly appalled.

There were 2 people in booths selling what we called crafts, which is to say, raw materials of wood, fiber, or what have you, that you hand crafted into an item of use or value. There were also 5 to 7 booths selling peanuts, snowcones, RC cola, etc. Those were fine, and remember this isn't the county fair, its a "craft show"

The rest of the several dozen booths were folks hawking wares or services: NASCAR memorabilia (chinese plastic), replacement windows, whirlpool conversions for your bathtub, knock-off DVDs, fortune teller, tacky widgets (rooster clocks, skoal napkin rings, john deere S&P shakers). There were license plate frame dealers, ancestry verifiers, horoscope booklets, and ways to verify your next sure-fire lottery number planning.

Sadly Vicki and I had to pass up on all these wondrous things, and started returning quietly to our car empty handed.  When we were about 20 feet from our car I couldn't hold it in any longer. I blurted out:
 "Well it looks like the Zuckerman County Lions Club snaked another ten dollars out of them stupid city folk agin!"

I want to thank you kind folks for reading this far, there is a pay off, a punch line, if you will.

Cause what I didn't see when I opened my pie-hole was this van parked close by, in which a gentleman was taking a smoke break, with his windows rolled down. You guessed it, he was wearing the special vest, hat and enamel pins that plainly identify a person as Grand Poobah, Great Lion, or Gold Wizard or some such title which I as the aforementioned metropolitan ignoramus could not possibly discern. And of course he had heard me complaining. I have no idea if appreciated my well practiced Confederate accent, caused he just stared at us stone-facedly. Vicki gave me her patented eyebrow maneuver which always says, Lets Go Now; and away we zoomed. Eventually my dignity grew back, but it took a few days.

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