March 4, 2010

So I recently heard that there’s trouble with the Harbor’s summer festival schedule: Trouble finding people who care about things like bears and slugs and racecars. I ask, how is this possible?

I remember growing up in Elma, our entire summer was mostly mapped out around the Bear Festival, the Slug Festival, the Montesano People’s Festival, and the county fair.

At my first Bear Festival parade I was only four. We have a picture of me dressed in pioneer garb, sitting with a scowl on the side of the wagon with my feet up, flashing my undies to all the world in true pioneer style.

Later on, as a slightly lazy 4H’er, the summer parades were probably one of the highlights of my life. I spent countless hours agonizing over costumes for my poor abused horse (he was all for show); it was a crazy big deal.

Of course, there was that year my horse went on the fritz and I didn’t have a mount available for the slug festival. I was something like 13.

While I wasn’t particularly attractive at that time, what I lacked in looks I made up for in style and overall obnoxiousness. I wasn’t about to be left out of the parade cast that year, so I went to work hunting down a suitable animal to accompany me.
Since horses and I have never been a very strong combination, it came as no big surprise that no one within a three state radius wanted to lend me anything rideable.

What was a girl to do? My entire summer of happiness depended on that 45 minutes of sweaty fame, I had to think of something.

Finally one of our 4H mothers took pity on me and offered to lend me Zeek.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I grabbed at anything on four legs and agreed to give the relationship a shot (even back then I was way too optimistic).

And that, my friends, is how I ended up dragging the orneriest, oldest pigmy goat the world has ever seen through the Slug Festival (Blackberry Festival?) on a leash.
The high heels and royal blue polyester evening outfit probably didn’t do much to help my image. We looked like a frightening combination of Heidi and Cruella DeVille on crack (the goat, not me).

But in the end, there’s no doubt that those moments in the local parades year after year (after year) are among the best and most potent memories in my folder of life experiences.

(One year I had no excuse to be in the parade, so I just jumped into some random car with a friendly old man so I’d have a reason to wave.)

What I’m trying to say is that our festivals need help, all of them. They need young families and experienced members of our communities to step up and keep them alive.

Whether we’re talking about Outlaw Days or bear stew, these are the moments that make us a community, not just a group of people who live relatively close to one another.

If you and anyone you can think to drag with you are interested in keeping the East County spirit alive and kicking, please make the call and spend your two cents somewhere that it counts.

I’d give anything to live in Grays Harbor County right now; I’d be all over those summer event committees like sugar on an elephant ear.

Please contact your local chamber of commerce if you’re interested in participating.

See more at Annie's blog at regardingannie.com