Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Small Town Letdown...Part II

Usually...

I met up with Mom in the parking area for the festival and the first thing out of her mouth was, "I can't wait to get a roasted corn and one of those potato thingys."

(Like mother, like daughter; great minds think alike.)

"I know exactly what you mean," I said. "Let's go!"

I knew exactly where to go. The vendor that offers the roasted corn and ribbon-fried potatoes always sets up in the same place. You have to walk across the bridge, round the curve and head to the other side of the music shed. You could always tell you were getting close by looking for the line of people. We walked directly to where they had always set up but found nothing.

No roasted corn.

No ribbon-fried potatoes.

No chicken-on-a-stick and nowhere even to purchase a funnel cake if we had wanted one.

"Maybe, we missed it," Mom said.

"Maybe," I said. We retraced our steps but didn't find the roasted corn vendor. "At least the Boy Scouts are here," I said motioning to an area covered up with small fires and heavy cast iron pots.

"I think the Fire Department was selling hotdogs," Mom said.

"I see a sign for BBQ over there," I said. "I'll meet you at the picnic tables."

"Okay," she said.

We shared a table with a few other festival goers and weren't the only ones that were disappointed about the absence of the roasted corn guys. "That's the main reason I come to these festivals is to eat," said one lady.

"Me too!" I replied. "Make sure you get the cobbler from the Boy Scouts over there," I said pointing to them. "It's awesome!"

"Okay," they said as they walked away.

Mom and I decided that it was time to go so we headed over to the Boy Scout tent. "What flavor are you going to get?" I asked Mom. "Apple or peach?"

"Both!" she said.

"Me too!" We placed our orders with the young scout and watched him go about the task of removing the lids and spooning out the cobblers. "I'm glad you guys were here," I said to a lady supervising the scouts. "I always get a roasted corn and ribbon-fried potato."

"I know," she said. "I was disappointed, too. I heard they set up at one of the bigger festivals. But, hey, at least you got your cobbler, right?"

"Right!" we said in unison.

A small town letdown, maybe; but a day spent with Mom: Priceless!


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