Woodland Art Fair

“Honey, the Woodland Art Fair is in Lexington this weekend. Shall we go? Even though the twins are only 18 months old, I’m sure they’ll enjoy it. We can push them around in that monster stroller we bought that includes dual seats and a hatchback to stash all their diapers, snacks, and toys.”

“Darling, why don’t we just make a family affair of it, and take the dogs also? Sam the Dalmatian and Joe the Great Dane both love to go to the park.”

“What a great idea! We’ll just load up everything in our oversize SUV and park illegally on some ones yard close by the park, since there will be no parking to be found within a mile of the fair. People don’t mind.”

“Oh no, sweetie, I just remembered, I promised to take Grandmother shopping this weekend!”

“Silly man, we’ll just take her with us to the Woodland Art Fair. There must be a thousand booths there, surely she can find something to shop for. And there are sidewalks, at least some of the time, to accommodate her walker.”

“But my love, I promised Grandmother I’d take her friend Dorothy as well, and Dorothy is wheelchair bound.”

“I’ll push the twins in their stroller, you take the dogs, and Grandmother can push her friend and use Dorothy’s wheelchair in place of her walker.”

“Baby, you’re so smart.  We’ll just take the Hummer instead of the SUV, to make sure we have room for all.  What a great day this will be.”

“We must make sure to stop by the booth of that wonderful amazing glass maker, Dan Barnes.  We’ve never bought a thing from him, but his work is so beautiful and amazing, and he always recognizes us and treats us as friends.  I really want to instill an appreciation of very expensive, very fragile things in the twins.” 

I do not lie.  This level of screaming rudeness to the artists and the other patrons of the Woodland Art Fair is a common occurrence.  It will, in time, be the death of one of the states best art fairs, because nobody will be willing to put up with this level of bullshit.

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