This evening had all the hallmarks of a purely Boulder county convergence of worlds. It brought together beer, an oompah band, food, reggae music, pot, and lots of white people. My buddy and I went to the local Oktoberfest, and had a great time, even if we didn't consume anything except the music. We didn't need beer to enjoy ourselves, although there were endless choices available to us. (I remember seeing at least seven different local breweries with tents, but I bet some of the other dozen or so breweries from this town were represented. I just wasn't focused on them.) We had eaten dinner before we showed up, so we didn't spend any money on fair food. We never touched any of the official (I assume) state herb of Colorado, but every few minutes the scent of it wafted by on the breeze. We were there to walk around, people watch, and listen to bands.
There was a warm up band playing as we arrived, right as the sun was setting. We didn't pay too much attention to them as we meandered through the crowds, looking at all the tents set up around the park. (It was at my usual walking park, the one with the pretty rose garden at the other end of it.) Under the pavilion they had some kid-friendly activities, like a pony ride and a petting zoo. The goats in the petting zoo seemed to be happy enough, but the ponies hitched up to the circle seemed defeated and depressed. I wanted so desperately to hug them and then set them free in a meadow. We got a few freebies from some of the tents, including these buttons filled with the same luminescent stuff in glow sticks. (More on that later.) We expected to see people we knew from Rotary, but I think we only ran into one guy from our chapter, and he was very distracted by what he had going on with his business' tent. We worked our way around the circle, landing near the smaller stage just in time for the oompah band to play while a stein-holding contest was underway. (That's holding a beer stein full of water straight out from your body, elbow straight, longer than anyone else. I wouldn't have made it more than a minute, I'm sure.) The kids in the band were entertaining. I especially liked the medley of oompah versions of rock songs. The only one I was able to recognize right away was Jump, by Van Halen. I only filled out one entry for a drawing all night, but I seriously considered buying a raffle ticket for a vintage Pontiac Firebird. I'd said just this week that I'm such a Led Zeppelin-loving nerd, I ought to have a mullet and drive a Camaro. Then I corrected myself and said it would have had to have been a Pontiac. Maybe I'll go back tomorrow and get a raffle ticket after all.
We eventually settled on a bench under the big tent, right around the time the headliner act came on stage. We chatted with a couple people near us, but mostly we focused on watching people around us. Then some young man came up to my buddy and said, "Will you sell me that glow-button?" At least three other people had asked us where we got them, and we had told them, but the 1st National Bank tent had run out of them. This guy was serious. He offered five dollars for it, and we gave him both of ours for that. It covered the price of admission to the festival (which technically was a donation to Habitat for Humanity, but it was exactly what I'd paid on the way in.)
After that, we went back outside to get closer to the band, so we could hear better. It was the Wailers, the band that once backed up Bob Marley, with several members who appeared to be younger replacements for the originals. Inside the tent, I could barely tell that they were playing Buffalo Soldier. Once outside we could hear everything. I waited to hear No Woman No Cry, but I'm fairly sure it was played early, when I couldn't hear them. We stood in several different spots in the crowd, until we settled behind the sound boards. With a big gap in front of us, we finally had a great view, and stood for an hour, grooving to the reggae music, breathing a few hundred other people's pot smoke. My friend pointed out that after a while, it stopped stinking and almost smelled good. Great, I said, next we'll have to go find something to eat. We escaped without getting the munchies. For a last minute change in plans to go tonight, it was well worth the price of admission, even before it was magically refunded to me.
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