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This weekend is Artfest here in Spokane, a yearly festival of art vendors,
food and music held a couple blocks from my apartment at Coeur d'Alene
Park.

Artfest comes this year on the weekend before I get my check in. Which
of course means that I have no money to spend there. It's easy for
someone who lives in comfort and has a decent income to say "Why, Ed,
what you need to do is save a little money back for things like that."
What those people don't realize is that you can't save what you don't
have. Even if I would have had an extra $20 this weekend I certainly
wouldn't have spent it on Artfest. I would have gone across the street
to my grocery store and bought some Pepsi and milk and a few other
things that I am short on till next week. I don't know who came up
with the idea that poor people could save up their measely half-pence
each month and eventually better their lot. My guess is that it must
have been some 19th century writer who didn't know shit from shinola.
The truth of the matter is that if you are truly poor you don't have
enough money to put back. And if you have enough money to put back,
then you aren't really poor.

Unfortunately Artfest isn't the only example of this type of thing
happening this year. Our annual Pig Out In The Park will be held August
27th through September 1st — once again a few days before I will get
paid. I'm sick of it. But there's nothing to be done about it.

I walked down to Artfest tonight just before dusk. I was really feeling
the effects of the new med, Fosinopril, which just like the Coreg
before it makes me feel like crap. By the time I got to the park I was
already tired. But I kept walking anyway.

There weren't very many people at the festival. Chances are the
attendance picked up later in the evening, but during my hour or so
there you would have hardly thought it was one of Spokane's major
festivals. Getting there right at the end of one band's performance I
knew it would take a while for the next to start playing, so I took
time to go ahead and walk through the vendor tents. There weren't
nearly as many artists there as in previous years. I think that
especially with the price of gas over the past year that a lot of
artists just get by with their studio and selling on the internet.


If I would have been stoked with cash I think I
would have bought one of these crazy animals.

There was one group advertising for a local costume event at the Art
Museum in June. They were all dressed like Star Wars characters, some
pretty realistic looking costumes. Darth Vadar was there, of course. I
found myself hoping that old Darth would take the opportunity to use
the dark side of The Force to score himself a couple free beers.
Myself, I don't know much about the dark side, unfortunately. A few
beers sounded real good at that point.

I sat down in a chair in front of the stage and watched the next band
set up. There was a rather nice looking blonde and redhead sitting in
front of me. For a while I imagined that I was once again in the swing
of things. At one point the redhead turned to me and asked if you
could smoke in the park. No, I told her, it's not legal anymore. They
made a quick phone call on their cell and left. Oh, well; it was nice
at least imagining that I was still swinging.

A guy in the band started repeating the phrase "check, check" over and
over again about a thousand times. It was obviously going to be a while
before the next band started playing. So at that point being very hot
and thirsty and lonely, I walked home.

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