Steamy. Sweet sweat and rain mix on my skin and trickle down my face onto my clothes. The once crisp air is now dirty. The worms come out; you can smell them as they do. When it rains just before sunset it's my favorite. The day is just perfect and once 3 rolls around you can tell the magic is in the air. Even being inland its almost like a morning at the lake, a getaway. And when the sky fully goes dark the air falls and all you can think about is how great of a night sleep you will have when the sparks take over the sky.
Just earlier that day you had been in tent town. The white canopies lining the streets for a least a mile. From stoplight through 4 more all the way to a rite aid. Foot traffic stampedes the streets having more power than any car to take the pavement. Familiar faces, the ones that have either changed your diaper or taught you in school. Your friends are around you are buzzing with the smell of the food dragging its way up to the passersby.
The tradition is what's important. The people make the town. But the people aren't who represent me. I am open minded. I want to scream. But it feels like no matter how much I scream nothing will pop this bubble that I'm living in. maybe the town is full of trails and runners because we all want to escape.
The town is kept happy with the art fairs and concerts in the park. please pretend you happy. No one can know what you truly feel or you're the outcast. The town dunce. They want us to be happy by giving reward like the shopping to spend money on overpriced art from people from far away. The people who have the life you want.
But be a gracious host and welcome them to your town with open arms. I wish I could pack myself up and travel with them. Leave it all behind. They are nomadic. They get to leave our bubble. They aren't labeled by who their neighbor is or who they vote for. I bet their kids can go to the USA themed football game without being at risk of losing their college scholarship. Why are people like this. I want a high school experience, but they don't think about how one picture effects the rest of your life. I can't be seen with the stuff they are promoting. I can't lead the life I want to.
They have the Pleasure to come see the quaint town in the suburbs of the "scary city". They get to stay for a week and make money then go onto the next town. They see everyone at their best. Their best behavior. Come to the 4th of July parade and tell me you would come back next year. I bet they wouldn't.
I bet they don't think twice about where their state rep was on January 6th. I don't have to think twice because I know. He made it known on Facebook. The person who is meant to "represent me" takes away my rights. Tells me personally to get a life when I was fighting for civil rights. I vote because it matters but with the strategic way the voting districts are drawn my vote doesn't mean shit.
But remember we are happy. We are the cute and quaint town that people love to visit. Turn your frown upside-down. Go enjoy tent city while you still can. See the friend of a friend that knew your grandpa when he was the fire chief. Hey, another person your mom knows- shocker –
The streets are full and so are the hearts of many and the pockets of some. But-
The rain washes that away. The smells are overpowered. And the white tents are now clean. They will be ready to be packed up in the morning, ready to move onto the next town. Ready to be anywhere but here. I wish I could leave with them. But just like the rain they are gone with the wind. See you next year. Or maybe I won't... at least you have the choice...
-C.S.
