Yokels at Art Show Take the CL out of Class

Today I went to the 14th annual DeLand Fall Festival of the Arts. We’ve come a long way. When I moved here in 1979, this town was Podunk Central. There were a couple of grocery stores, one tiny movie theater, a drug store and that was IT. Now we have restaurants and fast food joints aplenty, a Super Wal-mart and CVS or Walgreens on practically every corner. The old dusty, Gunsmoke-esque downtown has turned trendy and artsy.

A lot has changed. It stands to reason since we’re located smack dab between Orlando and Daytona Beach. DeLand is commuter heaven because it possesses a hint of Mayberry with the old houses and large old liveoaks. It really is picturesque–Norman Rockwell meets Deep South.

However…sometimes…I can’t help but notice…a certain mentality…that didn’t quite catch the last train out of Podunk, if ya know what I mean. Some of the natives concern themselves exclusively with the doins of other folks in town, dropping the names of locals, with a Barney Fife sniff, like they’ve just lunched with Clint Eastwood or The Dalai Lama. “Well, you know, I saw so and so, you know, the mayor’s wife and she said…” or “Well so and so, the attorney was telling me…”

I don’t get it. Maybe it’s because I didn’t grow up here. I wasn’t particularly impressed when I lived around the corner from President Nixon’s retreat in the early seventies–query that–so I guess I’d be hard pressed to give a crap about what Sally Smith’s daughter served at her backyard barbeque. Well, I sound like a snob and I’m digressing so let me get back to the art festival.

After standing around for over an hour, waiting for my niece to do her hip-hop number with her dance class where–by the way–a very overzealous mother or dance teacher ruined the performance of a talented, graceful young sugarplum fairy by screaming, “Smile! Smile! Smiiiiiiile” the entire time, I resumed my talent trolling.

I love looking at the varied types of art and marvel at how much work goes into the paintings, pottery, woodcarvings, photographs, etc. I was almost at the end when I heard this unbelievably shrill, “EEEOOOWW MAAA GAWD! Would yeeewww luuuk at thayat??” I whipped around wondering what artistic wonder I had missed when I saw this woman in her big ole sunglasses and ball cap (not my cup of style tea) gawking, mouth agape, at a huge picture of an alligator–pardon me, gator–with a Florida State University Seminoles ball cap in its mouth. Now, that’s art!

Hundreds of exhibitors and the first exclamation I heard was not over a lovely, fiery sunset amidst a forest of saw palmettos or upon a sea oat sprinkled sand dune. Not a second look at the celestially delicate young woman playing a harp like an angel. Not a nod toward the young man playing Irish folk tunes on his fiddle. But you show me somethin’ to signify the eternally important battle between two Florida Universities and I’ll say, “yehawww!!” Can I get an Amen?!?

Do we have to get our identities from football teams and stock car racers? Must we constantly be bumper stickers for ourselves? All I can say about today are these things: I sincerely hope that Miss Living Vicariously did not have a brain hemorrhage over the paltry width of the poor sugarplum fairy’s smile. I do, however, hope the sugarplum fairy called her a ho and put her lovely pink slipper…never mind. AND, I hope perky ball cap woman goes home tonight and dreams about watching a beautiful sunset along the banks of the St. Johns River. She’s just thinking how lovely a picture of that would look over her collection of shot glasses when…you guessed it…CHOMP!!!