Reminder: The Music Contest which was posted on Monday ends at 7 p.m. Pacific time today. The winner will receive a $25 iTunes gift card.
Last weekend we went down to Laguna Beach to attend the
Wood Chip Sawdust Festival. I met an attractive man with a hammer for a penis while I was there, but that’s just a small part of the story. Let me start at the beginning. You need a little background to understand.
The Sawdust Festival has been taking place in Laguna every summer for the last 42 years. It is held inland from the beach, outdoors, and consists of approximately 200 booths of Laguna-resident artists selling their wares. There is a live band playing. There is also a small selection of food and drink available which, quite honestly, you are better off not consuming. The last time I went to the Sawdust Festival I was disappointed with what it had to offer. For some reason I decided to give the festival another try this year.
Can you say disaster afternoon? Briefcase and I made the mistake of insisting PR go with us for some “family time”. RC had to work, and TR is away at a study-abroad program for the summer. What the hell were we thinking? Never, ever, take a teenager somewhere they don’t really want to go because they will make you miserable. The entire car ride to Laguna was met with angry silence on the part of PR. Well, except for the two times he criticized Briefcase’s choice of music in the car. (Couldn’t blame the kid for that!)
Traffic is always obscene getting into Laguna, and it is that much worse when the Sawdust Festival is going on. PR looked at the bumper to bumper traffic stretching for miles ahead of us and stated in that teenage-sarcastic tone, “Well, this is just great fun, isn’t it?”
Excuse me for a moment while I strangle my annoying teen.
We eventually arrived, found parking (no small feat) and waited in a long line to pay our $21 to enter. The moment we walked in, PR looked at the ground and in complete disgust announced, “These are wood chips, where’s the sawdust?”
Um. Who. Cares.
Teenage skepticism being what it is, there was no chance for the Sawdust Festival to redeem itself in PR’s eyes after fraudulently advertising sawdust only to deliver wood chips. Why something as trivial as this can be a big deal to a teen is beyond me. It is one of those mysteries that only another teen would understand.
“WTF, can you believe they call it the Sawdust Festival, but there was no sawdust?”
“No shit?! Not cool at all!”
Things went steadily downhill from there. PR has mastered the attitude called sullen lately. Slumped shoulders, rolling eyes, impatience with everything parental. He is such a joy to be around sometimes.
The festival was uncomfortably hot and very crowded.
The grounds were packed with people unconcerned that they were walking on wood chips and not sawdust. PR started walking up and down each aisle of booths as fast as possible so we could “be done and get out of here”.
Realistically, even if PR hadn’t been with us, I would have once again been disappointed in the Sawdust Festival. I love cutesy little stuff that I don’t really need, but there was nothing there that even interested me. Well, not initially anyway.
Then, there they were. Two full size wire sculptures of adult humans. One of a naked Wire Man and one of a naked Wire Woman. The female was no big deal. It just looked like an average Wire Woman. Is there such a thing? An average naked Wire Woman? The Wire Man had a hammer hanging there as it’s penis. A hammer down to it’s (his?) knees.
Can’t you picture a full size Wire Man standing in your living room with his (ahem) hammer hanging to his knees? I would have taken a picture, but the artist who created it wouldn’t let me. He also laughed heartily when he saw PR’s horrified face.
Shortly after we saw the Wire Man, PR announced he didn’t “feel good”. There was nothing wrong with PR and I knew it. He was desperate to escape the festival; he was willing to say anything. I was done anyway. It was too hot. The merchandise was disappointing. PR was pushing my button’s. After only a short visit, it was time to go.
Miraculously, PR felt better once we got home. The instant Briefcase brought up the possibility of buying some new baseball equipment for PR, he felt fine again. PR prompted his dad, “Yeah, let’s go!” The two of them bolted out of the house in seconds to visit our local sporting goods store.
I looked around my living room and tried to envision the Wire Man standing in a corner. He’d be a great conversation piece. Not to mention that Briefcase travels constantly and it would be nice to have a man in the house. Especially a man that never talks and is well endowed. Unfortunately, I think I’ll have to pass. The new boy toy? I don’t think he matches my decor.