random thoughts – Day 1,591 – (Friday) – folking it

Folk Fest arrived after the final flurry of activity. More tent toppers lined the sidewalks. Not over the sidewalks, literally on the sidewalk over the canal outside the office. As vehicle traffic moved along Merrimack Street, pedestrians gingerly stepped along the narrow space between the toppers and the concrete edging of the sidewalk. Looking out the window late in the afternoon, as the clock edged closer to the festival kickoff parade time, a colleague and I wondered how it would all get down. And it did. It all got done by 5:00, with more than an hour to spare before the opening parade.  

Festival opening parade.

After work we headed across the street to Cobblestones for supper on the patio. The weather was perfect. Sunny and not too humid. The kind of weather I would like to live in nine or ten months a year. After a while, over at City Hall Plaza, flags for the parade could be seen rising over the wall of porta-potties along Arcand Drive. 

The parade went right past Cobblestone’s and we were able to see the flags from various countries and the groups of people, some in national dress and they passed by on the street. I was surprised by how many flags I didn't know. When we left the patio, the side street along the restaurant had a beer garden in full swing. A stage sat waiting for the band scheduled for later in the night.

Packed house at Boarding House.

We walked down Merrimack Street, which was lined with people and onto John Street, which was lined with carnival-like food trucks. At Boarding House Park, it was a full house. As full as an open-air park can be. Lawn chairs filled the grounds as High Fidelity, a blue grass band from White’s Creek, Tennessee filled the air with music. We listened to the bluegrass and it made me kind of sort of miss Tennessee, especially when one of the band members was talking. The Tennessee pacing and accent made me want to go back for a visit.

Carnival food on John Street.

The Friel Sisters were up next. They are an Irish group with three sisters, one of which was stranded in Dublin due to a flight problem. The trials and tribulations of life on the road. They sounded great, but our butts were going numb from sitting on a concrete curb and needed to move around.

In the street behind us, workers were busy under the tents, dishing up Greek, Filipino, Hispanic, Jamaican, Middle Eastern, and Laotian food. We had eaten at Cobblestone’s and I was full. Painfully full. As tempting as a baklava sundae from the Hellenic American Academy PTA tent sounded, I just couldn’t. Maybe tomorrow.