Meet the Simpsons: Homer, Marge, Maggie,Lisa... and Sponge Bob??
I was supposed to go to the Fifth Ave Festival with Bill and maybe meet up with Eleanor, but by around 11:30 I realized I was the only one with actual plans. So off I went. I thought I'd grab lunch from the street fair but instead I blew my money on some rainy day trophies: a glass monkey, a bag of pistachios, sunglasses, and finger puppets. As you can see I got Homer, Marge, Maggie, Lisa and Sponge Bob Squre Pants. If I had been there ealier I might have found Bart.
A Fabulous "Don't": Maribu is not meant for rainy-day gear.
Most of the vendors were local, which is refreshing to me. It seems all NY festivals have the same tubes ock vendor, sunglasses booth, chiroprator, massage seat, candle-incense, etc. There were a few, but mostly local restuarants and vendors came out with their wares. I can't belive how many new restaurants are now on fifth. I remember when it was dangerous. The biggest danger now seems to be paying to much for dinner. Thai, Mexican, Japanese, French Bistro, Bolivian — one would never guess that the world is having a food crisis but for the smaller portions.
What Child is This? The Peruvian sweater booth is now a street fair fixture here in Brooklyn. It may have displaced the pilates demonstration seminar.
But as the weather predicted, a cool overcast Sunday gave way to rain. Fifth Avenue was crowded but I ran into some familiar faces, Shab and Danny, Eva's younger brother (what-iz-name), some fellow musicians who still think my name is Roger, go figure. I ran into my neighbors, Mr. Long and his wife. They talked about allergies and pollen. "It seems every year they say it's the worst year..." Reminder: Stop taking Benedryl before I go into a coma.
I started at St. Johns and walked as far as 11th Street. On my way back I spotted a family eating roasted corn, they pointed me to the booth near the antique car show. It wasn't lunch but it hit all the right spots. The music was nice, dogs ran children ran through the streets and the smell of grilled food filled the air as I headed my way back up Lincoln.
This 1966 Fiat iis the bomb, but I still have a soft sport for the Nash Metro.
1 comment:
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