Another Lost Weekend?

The end of a hectic workweek. Not so much a problem of steady work, but a lot of trouble shooting and repair. It's tough sometimes being the man carrying the shovel behind the elephants.

But a break from the norm. Instead of the usual Saturday morning routine, it's have a cup of Joe, sit on a brick wall in the Saturday sunshine, and wait for the public transportation to deliver you downtown at the convention center for the whatever annual Maymont Flower and Home Show.

The sky was clear blue with strips of clouds blowing from west to east by a cold wind. 3o minutes and my chariot arrived. Few people ride the bus on weekends, so it is a lot faster travel. Past the pizza place where we stopped for a brief encounter, the university with cheer leading competition, the restaurant closed for fights and shooting, but reopened for business, the boarded up buildings in the middle of demolition or construction.

The streets are almost empty as I enter the building. Then a see the crowds moving forward toward the signs and the guards at the doors. Hand two "free" tickets to the man and walk past, only to have to back up and get my hand stamped with a red dye that looked like a cigarette burn.

And behold. A football stadium size warehouse filled with people milling about between little cubicles divided by sheets and signs. Booths of wares for the landscaping, construction, and a pile of crafts.

As the black thick carpet let me forward past the Maymont huge garden built on stone slabs and mulch with live trees and flowers the smell of spring filled my head. Spring is not that far away. Some people walk through the exhibit, other used their little digital camera to capture ideas.

Onward pass the newspaper booth with a person I did not recognize. Pass the man raffling off cars and trips to the beach, pass the orchids next to the hawker selling a nozzle spraying water into a plastic container. There was water everywhere. I don't remember there being water before.

I made a regular pilgrimage to this show every year for a while to get ideas and expandable rakes, but I had not been in a few years, so I figured it was time to catch up.

The crowd was different. Older, slower, more wheelchairs, and fewer yuppies. People would stop and look and discuss and fill the isles. Now, I remember. I don't like crowds. But I waded through the people and their bags and carts full of samples and wares.

Stop at the clay flower makers and watch a local oriental woman make a blue and yellow fish for a excited yet mentally challenged boy. The hands rolled the clay in perfect rhythm of an artisan with ancient knowledge. The hawker at the other end of the booth sat in a canvas chair and in a uptempo voice announced to the passerby, "Clay Flowers, Come Touch Them". The woman smiled as she fascinated the surrounding crowd by placing the clay fish on a stick with the precision of a surgeon and hand it to the boy who ran off to show others. We should have applauded.

Next stop a shiny booth with a lot of lights and fans blowing these metal whirly gigs. Twirlers they are called. Eagles, American Flag, Flowers, Hearts. All laser cut out of colored metal spinning under the lights. Each design was encased in a row of circles of metal strips offset a finger width apart. As the design spun, the colors of the metal glowed like neon. And the colors changed from light to dark in it's dance. I paid $40 for a humming bird 3-D twirler and wished that I had some acid to overwhelm myself on the vision of all these flashing metal visions. Instead I would get shocked from the static in the black carpet and my head making contact with these metal flying sculptures.

Down the rows of people standing waiting for request. The window woman who described how each window is custom fitted. The sun room man who bragged you will never see a screw head. The man by the hot tube when asked why he was in the tub said, " I'd be too relax to show it to you."

Odd mixture of displays. Odd mix of people. Mostly beige. This is one of this town's favorite events, but the crowd did not seem excited or involved. Neither did the exhibits representatives.

I noticed a pretty girl at a state university booth displaying water collector and compost container. She stood there. Sweet face. Hands behind her back. Pressed shirt and slacks. Waiting for a question. I'm sure she had a good message, but no one was interested and the flow of faces passed her by. Another site had a young pretty face smiling. She must have been assigned as the "pretty face" to present the display like Vanna White. And me, as a big flirt, walked pass with a smile and a head turn watching her.

A stop for a $5.00 bottle of water and a blueberry muffin as I watched huge women stack a plate with roast beef and a ton of some kinda white sauce. Again the surroundings were old, white haired and very beige.

While I tired of the crowd, I noticed other odd displays. A player baby grand piano playing by itself, a tornado shelter about the size of a cubicle for 10 people (we used to call them bomb shelters), a wine sampling area (which seemed quiet popular with all the tables filled and paper scraps of $40 "sampling" tickets all over the floor, to an Egyptian artifacts display. They were not real artifacts, just look alike which could be purchased. Where would you put a golden sarcophagus in your home?

Back into fresh air and home on the delivery wheels.

Then to the man cave for some refresh time alone. Until 4:00 AM.

Phew.

So what do you do to top that adventure?

Spend the next day taking back videos, shopping for underwear, looking at small guitars, renewing your Barnes and Noble discount card, buying incense at the $ store, not finding a new USB port at Staples, and being annoyed at the crowd in the burrito joint.

Maybe this cold wind will blow some fresh news in for the next extended furlough weekend.