the orange international street fair… you go there for 3 reasons…
labor day weekend we did all three…
ate: aebleskivers (little danish donuts balls with jam & powdered sugar), fish’n’chips, meat on a stick, many many sausages, kahlua pork sliders and that was just breakfast.
drank: pretty boring actually, just beer
danced: to traditional greek music in a circle led by a woman that probably gave birth to a dozen greek babies under a kitchen table, likely could make you cry with her baklava and outlasted me and a gaggle of drunken college kids. we also danced to the rolling stones cover band- the singer may have partied as hard as mick jagger himself (likely not in as nice of hotels or with as foxy of women)- his skin resembled apricot fruit leather.
as i walked down italian street i reminisced about the summer i turned thirteen and hung out at my aunt’s flat overlooking glassell street. my aunt’s flat, labor day and street fair was a family tradition every year that always ended with a mass exodus of friends and family to german street for the chicken dance (singing do do do do do do do as we imitated chickens flapping our wings (arms), clucking our beaks (hands) and shaking our tailfeathers (behinds).
auntie deborah’s flat was always packed with her friends --- painters, policemen, writers, secretaries, students, sculptors, mechanics all with one thing in common drinking and talking. i would sit sipping frozen lemonade and eavesdropping on adult conversations. but this summer was different… i was finally a teenager… my aunt’s friend mark-a writer and carpenter- let me sip chianti from his mug when my mom wasn’t looking, i was allowed to go downstairs into the crowd and noise of the fair alone (even if it was only for 5 minutes to bring back a teriyaki beef on a stick and even though i found out later my aunt watched me the whole time from her window), and i sat on the roof with my mom’s friend’s son who was fifteen as he let me take drags off his cigarette while we had long important talks about who we would be and what we would do.
almost 18 years later the street fair itself really hasn’t changed much-the streets are still a mass of drunk, full sweaty people.
my aunt got married and moved and the flats are quieter and i don’t know anyone who lives there anymore but i still ate beef on a stick and now i don’t have to sneak the wine.
deanna meets some meat
melissa and natalie get down on some fish'n'chips
introducing the infamous aebleskiver
me & my dad dino in his cool shirt we screenprinted
deanna gets to know to orange police department
sandi & dino make their way through the crowd