Yes I too spent time at the Watermelon Festival. What was I thinking? Normally I avoid the "festival" like the plague. Matthew and I had hit an impasse with the Exchange 2003 upgrade and I took a little trip down to the park to watch my oldest scale the rock wall. The smell of 50 year old bikers (mainly yuppies and baby boomers having joint middle age crisis), watermelons, smoked meats of various flavors and the inevitable funnel cake made me almost gag as I got out of my vehicle. The weather was beautiful, but even that could not brighten my mood as I walked past Tupac and Julio discussing the best way to bling out their 20's for the b****es. The place was packed. I had to get out my portable donkey just to trek from my parking area to the center of redneck utopia. upon arriving I realized that you could actually purchase a funnel cake every 14 yards....Amazing! I found the rock wall, watch the sprout climb and began to make my way out...but then..."hey, aren't you that guy on TV?" I was trapped. I should have known that only the redneck cesspool known as the Hope Watermelon Festival would contain people that had nothing better to do than memorize the faces of those people ever shown on KTSS. Suddenly and without warning, I was surrounded by slack jawed, no teeth, rebel flag wearing trailer park dwellers. They breathed their slim jim/yoohoo mixture of stank my way and I felt myself begin to become light-headed. I quickly deployed counter measures (I always carry a small amount of fake Lynyrd Skynyrd tickets with me) and began to make my way to the closest safe house...the band concession stand. As I got closer my safe destination, I was annoyed to see that they had completely surrounded my haven with ....VENDORS! Those bastards, shiny rocks on one side and ...oh my god...Brazilians playing pan flutes on the other. At this point you are probably asking yourself...how did he get himself out of this one. Well, as any tech can attest, I have my ways... I quickly pulled out my trusty cellphone and hurled it in the direction of my vehicle (approx. 18 miles away). As many know, my cellphone punched a HUGE hole not in the crowd, but the space time continuum. I quickly slipped through time, not before grabbing a chicken on a stick, and safely reappeared at my vehicle. Okay, I actually fought my way back through the bikers, welfare recipients, old people, screaming children and burrito fornicators and reached my vehicle only to find that I was trapped by the growing stream of cars attempting to find that "perfect" spot. Luckily I spent the next hour in air conditioned listening heaven as I waited to return to my fortress of solitude... manteca
