Monday nights in the summer mean “Music on the Steps” of the downtown library. Local bands play crowd-pleasing music to the small audience that gathers on the grass and walkways in front of the building. The concert is short—just an hour—but it gives me something to look forward to at the otherwise occasionally depressing start of the workweek. I always see a few familiar faces, and there is usually a toddler or two entertaining the crowd with funny dance moves. It really doesn’t matter who the group is, I just enjoy relaxing outside in my comfy lawn chair, and usually nodding off by the third song.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Music on the Library Steps
Monday nights in the summer mean “Music on the Steps” of the downtown library. Local bands play crowd-pleasing music to the small audience that gathers on the grass and walkways in front of the building. The concert is short—just an hour—but it gives me something to look forward to at the otherwise occasionally depressing start of the workweek. I always see a few familiar faces, and there is usually a toddler or two entertaining the crowd with funny dance moves. It really doesn’t matter who the group is, I just enjoy relaxing outside in my comfy lawn chair, and usually nodding off by the third song.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Miss Fredericksburg Fair
The Miss Fredericksburg Fair pageant is the real reason my husband and I continue going to the fair year after year. And while this year’s exhibits may have been a letdown, we’ve decided that the pageant is better than ever. When we first started going years ago, it was to get a mocking chuckle out of the hokiness of it all, with the high school girls whose ambitions always included following two wildly divergent career paths simultaneously, one always geared toward selfless community service, and the other to insure celebrity. “I want to be a nurse and an actress” or “I want to be a special education teacher and a television spokesmodel.” It was all cheesy smiles and cliched answers to trite questions...typical pageant stuff. Don’t get me wrong—there’s still plenty of that. Just like always, the opening act and emcee is Bob Williams, a lounge singer in a loud suit and a long, gray ponytail who sings pop standards to taped music (but who seems like the sweetest of guys, really, and who I will miss if he ever retires). The girls still change clothes three times, to include at least one outfit that none of these girls would actually ever wear in public. And there is still the awkward walk up the runway in too-high heels and an overly sparkly prom dress.
Fredericksburg Agricultural Fair
Friday was opening night of the Fredericksburg Agricultural Fair, and as has become a tradition for my husband and me, we went. The fair is one of those things that is a throwback to Fredericksburg’s more rural roots, and when we first moved here, its appeal was that it was completely different from anything we had grown up with up north. Admittedly, with fewer farms in the Fredericksburg area each year, the agricultural aspect of the fair is definitely on the wane. Most years, there have been three large buildings for the animals, one filled with chickens and rabbits, one devoted to sheep and goats, and one that has a petting area with a variety of young farm animals. Then of course there is the cow barn, where all the 4-H’ers display the cows they raised from birth. Another big building is filled with domestic arts like knitting and sewing and crafts, plus homegrown veggies and preserves. Then a commercial building filled with booths hawking things like replacement windows and hot tubs. Top this off with a midway filled with carny characters running sketchy looking amusement park rides. And on top of THAT, the highlight of a trip to the fair for us, the Miss Fredericksburg Fair pageant.
I have an increasing aversion to amusement park rides, and will only go on a merry-go-round if I can sit on the immovable swan bench. Note the "Funnel Cake Factory" in the background, including fried oreos.
Here is some award-winning produce, including the first and second prize "beet pickle" (which were also the only two jars of beet pickle in the fair), and some mighty large pumpkins (the 8.5 x 11" sign on front of the table gives you an idea of the scale).
An antique tractor. There was a whole building of these...hmm, maybe the tractors displaced the sheep? Now that would be a tragedy.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
My Kind of Town
This blog is my homage to my adopted hometown. I was born in New York, went to college in Virginia, got married and settled in Fredericksburg almost 30 years ago. Except for the first few years, when a swinging twenty-something needed more to do on a Friday night than listening to the country band at Shakey’s Pizza (though the Mojos were good), the place has had an undeniable appeal. It’s the small-towniness that I love. Yes, I know that with a population of 20,000, and a total population of over a quarter million in the Greater Fredericksburg Metropolitan Area (Stafford, Spotsylvania and King George counties), it’s not really a small town. But from the vantage point of someone who grew up in a relatively urban environment (or at least aggressively suburban), it still retains a lot of small town charm.
Now the locals will complain that the area is being overdeveloped (absolutely true), that the traffic congestion is miserable (it is), there’s a Wawa on every corner (but that’s America, isn’t it?), and we’re well on our way to becoming just another indistinguishable D.C. suburb, filled with big box stores and plastic menu restaurants. But on the other hand, you’re never more than a couple of months away from a cheesy, yet earnest, parade, there are outdoor concerts in the park all summer, people stroll around downtown and sit for hours at the local coffee shop like Europeans (though you’re on your own in the crosswalks, American-style), and if there are six degrees of separation between me and anyone else on the planet, there are only two degrees of separation between me and most Fredericksburgers.
So to start, I give you a photo of the Purina tower, an iconic image of Fredericksburg. It was built in 1919 as a grain elevator (a term I first heard from my college roommate from Delphos, Ohio, but to this day still don’t fully understand), but I have no idea what it’s being used for now, other than not grain. Not all of my photos will be goofily photoshopped like this one, but it’s such an over-photographed building that I couldn’t resist.