Liederkranz

When David finished his boards we were frothing at the mouth to get out of Dodge. To be perfectly honest, I was frothing at the mouth. David, the little dear, delirious from four weeks of only his desk and the library carrels for company, was too brain dead to know which way home was. Just in the defense of med. students, those library carrels can be made to be a home away from home. Students put pictures of their family up, they have a stack of sweaters hanging over their chairs, an assortment of cheez-its and beef jerky line the shelf. You know, the necessities of life.
Anyway, while David was taking the test that would decide his fate and future from this point on in his mortal exsistence, I was doing something really useful for mankind. I was researching things to do online. Using really specific search terms like "fun" and "Harrisburg" and "outside." And lo and behold, what did I find but a little outdoor festival only thirty minutes away. What fortuosity!

I printed off the flyer for the festival from the computer. In cursive lettering it proclaimed, "Liederkranz German Folk Festival! Fun for the whole family! Singing, dancing, food, drink, and much more!" Well, didn't that just sound like a free-spirited, family fun environment? Congratulating myself on my excellent date planning skills, I set to make a "Yay! You survived the worst test of medical school history: Part 1” cake. No need to mention the parts 2-1,692 that he would have yet to take throughout the rest of his life. In fact, I was so pleased with my find, I thought it would be selfish not to share in this fun filled event. So I invited the Ellingsons to come along.

Driving to the festival, I had visions of Von Trapp Family singer type folk sitting around a camp-fire singing good old German tunes of yore. There would be sweet little children skipping in the field beside us playing with some traditional German toy, and happy old couples dancing a polka jig. What a night of cultural fun it would be!

Upon arriving at the festival, we were greeted at a welcome tent that had a wooden sign that stated, "Velcum." Ohohoho, I laugh condescendingly to myself, how quaint. It's even spelled in German. The man in the tent asks to see our licenses. What? Why does he need to see our licenses? I pull mine out and he slaps a red bracelet on me. Katie had forgotten hers, and apologetically the man puts a yellow band on her arm. "If you go back and get your license, I'll get you the right color." Suddenly it dawns on me what the bands are for, "Oh, we're not going to drink." The man cocks an eyebrow for a moment, and then begins to laugh, "Oh, yeah, right."

We walk further into the paved green area. Booths dot the path along us selling shirts, mugs, and other cheap paraphernalia. There are two main stretches of tents where vendors are selling food and people are refilling their jugs with a strange brown colored liquid that I guarantee wasn't cider. Large men that shouldn't be wearing shorts were wearing what looked like a 12 year olds suspenders. Women were wearing Von Trapp family garb with 6 inches less skirt and 5 inches less neck line. People were filling steins bigger than my watering can. And everywhere you looked people were quite simply put, wasted. I began to apologize to everyone for bringing them to this "festival."
"I really thought it said it was family friendly." Everyone else just laughed.

David and Clint bought ridiculously disgusting bratwursts, smothered in rank smelling sauerkraut, and Katie and I contemplated pretzels. We watched a few traditional folk bands and dancers, a puppet show, and a lot of people get sloshed.

David and I tried to dance amidst the crowds. But after the second song and stumbling over the third drunk person passed out on the floor, we decided to call it quits. As we exited the dance area, a large man with a full white beard stuck his hand out to David, "That's quite the dancing you did out there." David nodded his thanks, and we began to make our exit. The man called after, "You're not leaving are you? It's summerfest! You can't leave yet!" We smiled and waved them off, deciding it best to leave before all the inebriated summerfester tried to drive home.

Upon recounting the experience to my mother I complained, "I thought their might be alcohol, but I didn't know it was going to be the main event."
My wise and patient mother just said, "For future reference, Julie, when it says German festival alcohol will always be the main event."