I Survived Pumpkin Fest

Every year, the sleepy town of Morton comes alive when the townspeople gather downtown to celebrate the mighty pumpkin and all that it has done for the local economy.

I decided that my H.O.I. experience would not be complete unless I partook in the festivities, so on Saturday afternoon, I met Gretchen and her fiance Mike in Morton and we proceeded to gorge ourselves with pumpkin ice cream, pumpkin chili, and anything else into which it'd be quasi-reasonable to slip some pumpkin. Tickets for the rides were $2 each and it was excessively sunny out so we hung out under the entertainment tent, watching the musical stylings of the youth of Morton.

Remember the movie Donnie Darko? Well, we were entertained by a very SparkleMotion-esque group of tweens that had the same self-assured manner that immediately made me think that if I were their age, they'd be tormenting on a daily basis. Clad in green ringer t's and jeans, they line danced, sang, and twirled around for almost an hour to an...interesting mix of songs. Let's put it this way - before the show ended, a rendition of "Wind Beneath My Wings" almost seemed imminent. However, they do get partial credit for "You Raise me Up" and ended the show surprisingly with a number about "rocking" that featured too much prepubescent pelvic thrusting to be comfortable to watch. This was surprising in that when they sang "God Bless the USA," I thought that was it.

We walked around the fair a bit, had some more ice cream, and did shots of whiskey under a tree in someone's backyard before returning to the entertainment tent to watch "Kenny Rogers" and "Dolly Parton" (cross dressing? how original!) sing "Islands in the Stream." I mock it, I do, but yet I still went up to the stage and snapped a picture on my camera phone.

Speaking of my phone, is anyone else as annoyed by the classical music it plays when someone tries to call? I'm begining to think that people are going to stop calling because of that music. At first it was ironic and funny...in a Bentley Fonzworth kind of way. But now it's just bizarre.

Anyway, after a day at the "cleanest street fair ever" we reconvened at Hoppers for beer and pizza doused in rooster sauce. Some guy in a red sweater came up and started talking to me...and then wouldn't shut up. He explained to me that he hates being so fat and pimply but it doesn't matter because he knows so much about transmission that he's worth millions but doesn't want to work for anyone because then the ideas would cease to be his. He also told me that he's a college drop (but it doesn't matter as he's worth millions). When I asked him where he went to school, he told me Illinois Central College. (Harvard on the Hill.) This wouldn't have been so funny if he had only said once...or even twice. The rest of the evening was pretty mellow. I'm thinking about trading in my beloved bottles of Budweiser for something different as beer tasted metallic to me.

The evening ended trimming some guy's arm pit hair and then heading off to La Bamba for the ritualistic post-drinking nachos. Feeling gross from the pizza, pumpkin, metallic beer, and Dr. Pepper, I abstained yet thoroughly enjoyed the Rev. happily eating nachos. Seriously, it's been a while since I've seen someone so happy to have nachos. Then again, it's been...never since I watched someone grab a handful of their pubic hairs and toss them on metrosexuals passing by.

So in conclusion, Pumpkin Fest was all right. It needed a beer tent, but it was still good times.


Sunday

Sunday morning, I woke up and decided to have a productive day. I started the day with a drive around town and ended up at the Taco John's in East Peoria as I was in the area and feeling nostalgic for a churro. On a side note, everytime I drive through East Peoria, I swear I can hear Sam Kinison screaming. (Oh OOOOWWWWWWOOOHHHH!)

Not wanting to stay up late Sunday night, I actually had most of my laundry finished by 5 before heading out to clean up Canyonero and then go to the gym. I really wanted it to rain last night, so I washed my car twice (don't ask).

I also found one of the homiest streets in America. While driving down Forest Hill Drive, I found myself on this tree lined street dotted with brick houses, all of which had the porch light on, giving the neighborhood a warm and inviting glow. The air smelled of wood and late afternoon barbeque. It smelled like football season and I immediately longed to live on that street...somewhere between Sheridan and Knoxville...even a day later, I want to call this place home.

Lately I've found myself eyeing this house on Glen and I find myself taking a different route to work so I can look at it and mentally place chairs and grills on the deck above the garage. Never did I expect that I'd get moderately excited about the thought of owning a home. I find myself thinking about settling down more often than I used to, but if I allow myself to think this long enough, something will happen making it very apparent that I shouldn't. It's just not in my design. And I still can't grasp the concept of living someplace longer than 11 months at a time.

However, last night I came home sweaty from the gym, frappuchino in hand, waved at my new neighbors (The Europeans!), and went upstairs to watch some Reservoir Dogs and curl up in my leather chair. So what if I have too many locks on my doors and can't yet put a grill on my roof? Life is still as comfortable as it needs to be right now.