The national news media is all abuzz with talk about the recent election. The chatter ranges from, “Can you believe that those tea-baggers are going to Washington, and they’re going to starve the poor and drown baby chickens?” (MSNBC) to “Why doesn’t President Obama just quit? It’s obvious nobody likes him. You know his great -great uncle on his mother’s side once kicked a puppy. ” (Fox News).
So, when I say I saw America, it obviously wasn’t on TV. No, it was right here in downtown Woodstock on the Saturday afternoon before Halloween. The park was jammed, the weather was perfect and there was funnel cake. Now, I realize that my doctor will probably have a nervous breakdown at the mere mention of a tasty treat, but, if I can’t enjoy a funnel cake at a fall festival with my family, why on earth would I care if he is able to extend my life.
Photo by Jennifer Carter
There were games, a costume contest and not one gubernatorial candidate in sight. In fairness, it has been pretty dry, lately. So there was no available mud to sling. No, the park was full of families enjoying each other and the community. There were high school kids raising money for various worthwhile causes. I was struck by how generous everyone was, considering these tough economic times we keep hearing about. Maybe everybody was ready to forget the bad economy for a day, knowing that the TV would be there to bum them out when they got home. My grandson, Oliver was dressed like a fireman. When he saw the real firemen, he walked right up to them and started to chat. They treated this 3 year old (oops,sorry, almost 4) like a firemen. There are really expensive PR firms on Madison Avenue that can’t hold a candle to the Woodstock Fire Department.
God was there, too. Why wouldn’t He be there? You could feel the love in the air and, did I mention the funnel cake?
As we were going to our car, heading down Hubbard Street, a man stopped us and asked if we were from Woodstock. We said, yes and he asked how it was to live here. We could have been arrested for what an old friend called, “Chamber of Commerce-ola.” I’m sure he went back to his wife, who was waiting in the car and said either, “I think I’d like to live here,” or, “People here sure do talk a lot.”
He’s just lucky he didn’t ask about our daughters or our grandkids. She’d still be waiting in the car!
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