A Tale of Two Cities

On Sunday Lisa's husband Marc was kind enough to let me "help" him at the Forecastle Festival, a festival of music, art, and activism. I hope I was helpful by sitting at the table and making occasional drink runs. I only wish I had known how much fun I would have; I would have tried to prove my helpfulness days earlier. This festival had three music stages with bands playing everywhere and a huge crowd replete with people watching. Needless to say, I was pretty happy. I also got to see friends, which is my favorite thing to do. (Hi, Caroline!)
I didn't dress appropriately for the occasion. I tried to "dress granola" because of the whole activist thing. I wore a knit tunic top, shorts, and flip-flops, which in my condo looked just fine. In the light of day, however, I was not right at all. Note to self: When dressing like a hippie, it's important to mix patterns. For example, two different flowered patterns are good. And my flip-flops---thumbs-up for the style, thumbs-down for Cole-Haan. I'm learning.
I did enjoy watching the wardrobe options of other people. For a while I was astonished at the number of girls walking around in bikinis. Finally I uttered aloud, "Who walks around downtown Louisville in a bikini?" I was informed that there is a pool in Waterfront Park. Those girls were vindicated, though I still won't walk around in a bathing suit without some sort of cover-up. I promise I will never subject y'all to that. When Lisa and I got to the big stage to hear Del McCoury, we saw more astonishing choices in apparel. For example, one girl was wearing a bandanna as her shirt. It was very cute, but I lack her bravery. One gust of wind, that's all I'm sayin'. The best was the guy who looked like Smith from Sex and the City. He was wearing a towel, and I'm pretty sure that's all. It was tied pretty low, and clinging in all the right places, if you know what I mean. I hope he didn't get arrested on the way home.
At about 7:30 I got tired and headed for home. I turned the corner to Main Street and what to my wondering eyes did appear....a bevy of drag queens! Yes, drag queens with entourage were exiting their cars and climbing the steps of the Kentucky Center on a Sunday night. Some were wearing full regalia. Some were carrying their beaded gowns and big old wigs on styrofoam forms. Words cannot describe it! I wanted so much to go ask them what was going on and go watch, but I was afraid they would think I was being nosy. (Yes, I know, someone who is walking around in a sequined dress and wearing a big wig on a Sunday night in downtown Louisville probably doesn't mind attention.) I could have asked the drivers. That part was weird, too. The cars were just regular cars. Like a regular guy would pull up in a '92 Ford Escort, the whole group would make the dramatic exit, then the guy would pull away. It would be like if I pulled up with my friend the Lady Chablis, let her out, and then went back to the condo. But that's another story for another day.
You probably don't know, but if I could be anything when I grow up, I would be 1) Erin Andrews 2) Queen of a European country 3) Drag Queen. I would make a good one. I look just like a girl--no big muscles, no tell-tale Adams Apple. The fact that I am actually a girl is apparently an automatic disqualifier. That's unfortunate, because I don't have the talent to get up on stage and perform by myself. I need the lip-sync part of the drag show. Alas.