Street Fest

I hope that my readers had a good weekend. I had a lovely Thursday evening listening to jazz on the rooftop. I went by myself but ran into Handy Woman and a friend of hers I had never met before, then they left and I ended up chatting with a delightful older couple who were Wolverine fans in town to see the game, and they found out about the concert and came. Then I ran into a gang from two jobs ago, and we had the best time hanging out. The jazz ensembles were made up of students at the university. Travalon joined us right at the end, then he and I hung out on the Union Terrace and saw a beautiful sunset.

Friday evening I was invited to a donor thank you gala for people who donated to the new Hoofers marina. Now there was some big money at this shindig, including the family the marina is named after, so I felt ridiculous being there, having donated such a piddly amount. Travalon was at work, so I mostly talked to the student workers who kept bringing around delicious hors d’oeuvres, and the captain of the boat giving free boat rides. I went on one, and we saw a beautiful sunset and joined a group of sailboats. That was magical! By the time Travalon arrived, they had packed up the party, so he and I headed to a free concert organized by some of the grad students in my department, but we got there literally the moment it ended. However, the grad students and performer were happy to see us, and they invited us to hang out and eat deep fried cheese curds with them.

Saturday Travalon watched the Badgers beat Michigan, but I went to the gardens to do some community hours (more like community forty-five minutes – weeding is hard!), and then my band had a gig at Eplegaarden. The Rosary Ladies came out to hear us, but the weather was not too promising so we didn’t have much more audience. It did rain right at the end. Then I had to fight game-day traffic to get home, change, and head to our department picnic. Travalon and I mostly talked to one of the other peons in the department, and a friendly professor of Polish and his equally friendly wife. I didn’t have time to make anything, so I just brought some apple cider that was part of the $25 in produce I got for playing at the gig. (I also got a pumpkin, more apple cider, some donuts, Haralson apples – my favorite! – and a $2 bill for a tip.) I told the Rosary Ladies there would be plenty of leftovers, because a bunch of people didn’t come due to the weather, but they showed up after everything was packed up. Luxuli prayed over my injured leg, and after that the bump did seem a lot flatter. Travalon told me about an amazing meertz he had at Funk Factory called Hawaiian Shirt that had pineapple and coconut, so we went there, but they had a sign on their door saying that due to unforeseen circumstances, the taproom would be closed until nine. Travalon and I went to Lakeside Street Coffeehouse for a quick beverage, then we came back, but the sign had been updated to say the taproom would be closed until ten, so we just headed home.

Yesterday I was very grumpy about getting up and going to Mass, then afterwards we joined Rich and another bass at Rockhound for brunch. We had to pick up an item forgotten the night before at Lakeside Street Coffeehouse, so we went there for lattes. I took a nap and missed yet another Packers game (but we taped them so I can go back and watch them), and that’s a shame because they are actually doing well this year. Then Travalon and I braved the rain to watch the Forward beat a team from Texas, and right at the end of the game, the sun came out. Then we decided to try to do “Street Fest,” which was something we planned to celebrate the publication of my poem about Willy Street on the side of a bus. However, we have not yet seen it on a bus, even though it was supposed to appear last month. The idea was to go to one venue on John Nolen, one on Willy Street, one on Atwood Avenue, and one on Monona Drive to celebrate how they are all one big party street; my original plan was to start at the café on the roof of the Monona Terrace, but the weather wasn’t amenable to that yesterday. We decided to count Lakeside Street Coffeehouse, even though (as the name would imply) it is on Lakeside Street, since it is just off of John Nolen Drive. Since we had been there in the morning, we went to Mother Fool’s on Willy Street for a latte, Next Door Brewing on Atwood for a slice of beer pie, and finished at David’s Jamaican on Monona Drive for dinner. We got to David’s exactly at eight, and they were just about to lock the door, but they said they could give us jerk chicken to go, so we ate it at one of their outside tables. So that was Street Fest, a perhaps premature celebration of my poem that celebrates the Street.

Famous Hat