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June 20, 2004

we’ve gone on holidays by mistake

Sometimes I need and love the cacophony of street festivals. It makes the quiet walk home even more delicious. The little white fence all across St-Laurent boulevard is showing the way out to cars, and welcoming pedestrians with cups of warm beer, mango on a stick, a slap on the back. Speakers hung in the trees make the squirrels run in retreat, they assemble on top of the Fringe booth where they can be sure to find plenty of nuts. We follow the chalk marks on the pavement, and worlds surimpose as I meet my friend Paddy. “I heard you got a Gamecube! Can I get your N64 then?” “Of course you can”, I answer, “but I already lent it to Penny the mouse! Just go and get it from her, ok?” Digging through the pavement with my golden shovel, I find a beach, and deeper still, a river of warm beer flowing through.

We reach for the pie tossing booth. Calvin Johnson is sitting there, selling mixtapes. Everyone wants to throw pies at him, because moments earlier he was on stage, stuttering his way through an awful one-hour monologue about how wrapping oneself in a carpet is more punk that using a sleeping bag, etc. I liked it, but the crowd kept booing, they wanted the snoopy dance, the cream pie toss. A teenager walked up to the stage and raised his hand, Calvin interrupted the show. “Yes? Do you have a question?” “Yes,” said the kid. “I came to the show because I loved the Beat Happening tape that my friend gave me, years ago. I listened to it over and over. But I’ve just been made aware that it was actually a Syd Barret tape.” Calvin nodded. “mm mmm.”

A group of Peruvian musicians have started making a racket in the street, they spin and clap and the crowd converges towards them. We are looking at the mixtapes, and Calvin looks up at me, tilting his head on his side and avoiding the upcoming cream pie tossed at him. “Hi,” he says, “What’s your name? Would you like a mixtape?” I say “No, thank you. Would you like a Coke?” He says no, thank you. We waved goodbye, best friends forever.

Later on I end up in bed, dreaming of mango-eating contests. I awake at dawn and play a little Nintendo, the movement of the sea rises and fall inside my head and stomach, but I finally feel better and go back to sleep.

Saturday night, we got ambushed in the crowd during the Brazilian parade, and managed to escape through a back alley. Rivers of warm beer are still flowing. We reach the riverside in time for the fireworks; tonight is Spain, a pyrotechnical display for peace. It’s loud and smoky and smells wonderful, wish Tam was there. There are horses idly standing by the gates, we chat a little with them. “What are you doing for the solstice?” “I am taking it slow. As well you should.”

I love quiet sundays home. Newspaper day, a sit-around day. I bought my dad a chocolate fish for father’s day, but he is off fishing. It is a solid piece of chocolate, and I think if I just nibble its underside he might believe it was actually an empty chocolate creation..? I’ll see what I can do.

Posted by nathalie at June 20, 2004 12:58 PM

Comments

oh, what a little thrill, to know you think of me in what sounds like the most perfect place to be… i wish i was there, too. i’m glad you had such a lovely, festive weekend. “the cacophany of street festivals” is one of my favorite things in the world, and one of the things i miss most living in austin.

Posted by: tam on June 21, 2004 4:02 PM