Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

Sunday, when my sister and I got up, we went on the fitness trail near her apartment complex. This was mostly in wooded areas but also past a couple developments. You would walk along the path and then stop at various stations and do the exercises they described.

I was able to do most of them. There were only about two where I chickened out, because I was worried about aggravating existing injuries. By the end, I felt like I'd had a good work out.

We went back to my sister's apartment and got ready. When she headed into town for work, I went in with her, so that I could check out the Central Pennsylvania Festival of the Arts some more.

I had called my friend, The Music Teacher, and left a message but hadn't heard from her. After I dropped off my sister, I ambled downtown, stopping to photograph some flowers in front of the post office. Then I headed for Sunshine Imports, to seek out some imported, embroidered hippie clothes, to replace the hippie clothes that are now too big for me.

Just as I stepped in the door, I got a call from The Music Teacher. We agreed to meet at Pinero's in an hour, that being a combined coffee shop and restaurant, offering healthy, tasty salads.

Browsing the racks, I found a couple shirts that fit me and weren't so loose and blousy that they'd be useless within a few months. Both of them happened to be light blue, which will go well with a couple skirts I have. One is a halter top with an embroidered sun design, and the other is turquoise, embroidered and sleeveless.

I still had a little time to kill, so I decided to mosey on down Allen Street to College and see what was happening. A woman was apparently doing street theater. She had set up a makeshift manger with a pile of hay, a tent and a big portrait of a dog. Spread throughout the hay were Christmas items, including a Santa whose head was in a lunchbox next to him.

Dressed in an old-fashioned black dress, she was distributing food to the crowd. She gave me tomato juice and was also serving hot dogs, while French Christmas carols played.

A police officer came by to check out the situation and radioed to the base that it seemed peaceful, whatever it was. Overhearing him, a nearby woman with a camera told him it was street theater.

Then I heard some interesting music floating from the Allen Street stage, some experimental string music, I thought. I walked over to them to check it out, thinking as I watched them that this might be one of the only bands I'd get to see this Arts Fest.

As a reflex, I pulled out my camera and started taking pictures. They looked pretty rad: the three female violinists all wore short dresses and knee-high boots. The acoustic bassist had a long blonde beard, a flat hat and no mustache, which made him look as if he came from another time, some ancient religion.

Then there was a tap on my shoulder and I turned to greet a friend I hadn't seen in person since last year's Arts Fest, even though we'd been e-mailing each other and promising to get together. I gave her a hug. I'll call her The Rainbow Sister, a name which comes from the Rainbow Family, a loose national amalgamation of hippies. Even though The Rainbow Sister and I were in the Monty Python Society together, I also think of her in association with my hippie days and was a great friend of my brother's.

We shared news, such as the info that my brother and his wife are expecting. She was excited and said she'd heard it earlier.

"From who?" I asked.

"From him," she said, pointing on stage. The acoustic bassist, it turns out was an old friend. In fact, he had played at my wedding, sans the beard. In recent days, I knew that he was living in New York City. We all worried on 9/11, but fortunately, he was fine. Also in the band, it turns out, was his girlfriend.

Once I realized it was him, I got a bit closer to get some better shots. It was hard, because he kept moving and his face would be hidden.

Of course, in the front row was his father, another old friend. I gave him a hug and told him that yesterday I'd seen Dr. Suitcase and he hadn't recognized me. We'll call him Blues Dad, because in addition to being The Bassist's dad, he's a blues guitarist in his own right and sometimes plays, as I discovered this weekend, in the Philadelphia area.

Blues Dad said, "Oh, yes, you're a Wilson. Brenda, right?"

"No," I smiled. "Alyce." I knew why he made the mistake. That was the name of The Rainbow Sister's sister.

I told him about my brother, and he said congratulations. Then I wanted to get back to talking to The Rainbow Sister, so I told him I'd check in with him later. I drifted back and talked to The Rainbow Sister, telling her that I'd been going to call her that weekend. This was the truth; I had brought her phone number along. I hadn't counted on running into The Music Teacher, though, and was beginning to wonder how I'd squeeze everything in.

I told her she was welcome to join me and The Music Teacher for lunch if she wanted to. They had both been in the Monty Python Society, but I wasn't sure if the times overlapped. She said the name sounded familiar.

As 3 p.m. rolled around, I went back to the Blues Dad and gave him my card, telling him to have The Bassist e-mail me and I'd send him the best pictures. While I was at it, I bought a CD for the group, called Luminescent Orchestrii. I like to support independent musicians, especially when they're friends.

Reaching Panero's just before 3, I read my book until she arrived. The Music Teacher was a little late, since she'd had some parking difficulties. She'd gotten disoriented on campus since some of the streets are no longer through streets but now have buildings on them.

While we were waiting in line, I told The Music Teacher that I'd run into The Rainbow Sister and she said she sounded familiar. Just then, The Rainbow Sister joined us, and she said, "Oh, yes. I remember you."

The Music Teacher had no problem with her joining us. "The more the merrier." So we stood in line and while we were waiting, we gossiped about what had been happening both to us and people we knew.

Once we'd picked up our salads, we sat down at a table and caught up on the last decade or so of our lives. The Rainbow Sister, though, seemed to feel uncomfortable knowing that we'd set up the lunch for just the two of us. I think she felt like an intruder and after awhile said she had to be going. I promised her that next time I was coming to State College I'd give her more of a heads up and we could get together for coffee or something.

So then The Music Teacher and I talked more about past love relationships gone wrong and how happy we are in our current relationships. Maturity has shown us both what to avoid and what to seek out.

She had to be getting back to her in-laws. They were going to be celebrating her birthday. So I walked her back to her car. On the way, we chatted more. She told me about how she'd met her husband and knew things were right from the start, him being an old friend of hers. I agreed it's hard to beat a friend you already know.

Afterwards, I met up with my sister and her fiancé at Wendy's and had another salad. My sister is on Weight Watchers, and she chose a baked potato, a cup of chili and a side salad. It was both filling and fit her plan.

I told her later that I'd been expecting them to come but not to arrive when they did. My very first impression of them was that they looked like a cool couple. Then I realized it was them.

After eating, we walked with her fiancé back to the main gate of campus, and he split off for his job at the library. My sister and I checked out the chalk drawings they have every year in one of the streets. Some were reproductions of famous works, and some original.

By now it was about 6 p.m., and Luminescent Orchestrii was playing at the Festival Shell, so we checked them out. This was a blast. For one reason, they played more fast, gypsy inspired song. For another, these adorable children were dancing down front with hula hoops. They even got flowers from someone and threw them on-stage.

The Bassist told them, in between songs, "You girls rock."

We found out later they were all the children of people we knew. Two sister were the children of the most attractive hippie couple I've ever known. A girl and a boy were the children of one of my sister's friends.

The Rainbow Sister joined us, sitting down next to us. I asked her, since I saw juggling sticks in her bag, if she juggled. She claimed she wasn't any good but then impressed me with her juggling skills.

After the set, we got up to give The Bassist a hug and tell him how much we enjoyed the music. He was soaked through with sweat, but we didn't care. My sister had also bought his CD. He was very excited about my brother's good news, which he either heard from my brother or through the grapevine.

Only one band was left, the Earthtones, who have closed the festival for 16 years now. My sister and I didn't want to have to deal with our big purses, so we ran them back to her car and just kept what we needed. This was, in my case, my camera, my contact stuff and a little bit of money. She just kept her car key.

Of course, once we got back we kept thinking of things we wanted: "I could go for an Altoid right now." Or, "Did you bring your cell phone?"

The lawn was filling up by the time we got back. I saw more people from my hippie days, pushing children in strollers. They were all still hippied out, the children blond, long-haired and wearing adorable print sundresses. It's amazing how much changes and how much doesn't change.

We caught up with The Rainbow Sister when we got back. The second song, we all jumped up to dance. We had a great time, especially during the fast songs when The Rainbow Sister got really silly and made funny dance movements I'd imitate. Then I'd do one she'd imitate. My sister just looked at us, bemused, and did her own thing.

I was thrilled with all the different types of people dancing together. It warms my heart each year. Everyone from old hippies to young hippies to freshman girls dressed alike, giggling and taking pictures with their camera phones. Middle aged couples dressed as if for a cocktail party, doing the salsa. Gray-haired guys with peace signs on their shirts and guys who could step out of any office. A tall Native American woman with feathers in her hair. I just love that energy.

Even more fantastic this year was the sense of family. Lead singer R.T. had his 16-year-old son come on stage, and this kid is multitalented. He played keyboards, guitar and saxophone. He blew us away with a smoking guitar solo, reminiscent of Hendrix.

I would not be surprised if someday in his "Rolling Stone" interview he'll be talking about how his dad was in a popular central Pennsylvania reggae band and how he used to sit on stage with a little plastic guitar. R.T. has a 3-year-old son, too, whose mother held him up at the edge of the stage. His eyes were riveted on Daddy. R.T. said that they'd one day work him into the band, too.

The Earthtones played more socially conscious music this year than ever before. I don't know if it's because of these political times or because R.T., as a dad, wants to sing more things with meaning. Although there was still a healthy dose of party music.

At one point, a guy joined us who looked awfully familiar. As it turned out, I'd met him through my sister. He now has horn-rimmed glasses (the newest trend) and was dressed in a white button shirt. I noticed he was stealing a lot of glances at The Rainbow Sister. In fact, at one point he unbuttoned his shirt and looked at her to see if she was looking.

We found out from her later as we were walking her home, they'd gone out a few times recently. We told her he definitely seemed interested. How sweet.

At the end of that crazy dance party that was the Earthtones concert, it was time to get home. We walked The Rainbow Sister back to her house and then drove back to my sister's apartment. Even though it was only 11, we were both exhausted. After a healthy snack, we both hit the bed pretty early.

I woke up with a headache, despite not having had anything to drink the previous day. I think I was dehydrated, even though I'd been carrying a water bottle.

My dog, Una, decided to spend the night in my sister's room, because my sister's dog, Emma, was in there. Monday morning, she didn't want to leave. I had to drag her out into the rain, but she dug her feet in and I carried her to the car. She sulked in the back seat as we drove home to Philadelphia.

More from the 2004 Arts Fest:

July 13, 2004 - Getting Into Art

Copyright 2004 by Alyce Wilson

Musings Index

What do you think? Share your thoughts
at Alyce's message board (left button):