I love this place. It's been the perfect get-away summer. We go to the beach, which is great. We take trolley rides (free!) down into the village. We hang out at a local cafe that features live jazz every Sunday. (Annie made them laugh when a late musician scurried in and she yelled "Hey Everyone! Look! The Bass is here!") We go to art festivals and watch the kids throw pottery (for $5!). But last night, we got our act together, packed a picnic dinner and took the kids to their favorite park to play. This park is awesome- lots of cool equipment to climb on, plenty of swings and a nice grassy hill to roll down.
Every Sunday, the park features live music. We've gone to these in different places, and I expected it to be a nice summer evening, kicking on a blanket- enjoying some tunes. When I got to the park- I noticed everyone had bottles of wine. Lots of bottles. Folks had picnics that looked like something Marie Antoinette would have wanted. A group of guys had a mini-table, decked out in a pastel madras tablecloth, and their centerpiece was a huge silver ice bucket filled with champagne. The people sitting next to us poached pears and stuffed them with creme fraiche. The other family made Vietnamese lettuce wraps.
When the music started, we noticed this old man at the front of the band stand. He's probably in his mid-70's, with a grey beard that hangs down his chest. He was wearing nothing but a bathing suit- and he was tan, and looked to be grisly, but in good shape. He was the first one to start dancing. He would do this jog-in-place, while shaking his head from side to side, grinning a big grin. The crowd would laugh, and point, and he would jog faster. By the second set, I was worried the guy was gonna have a heart attack.
As the wine flowed the the evening continued, there were more people dancing than sitting on their blankets. Annie and I mosied up to the dance floor, and we stood next to the beared crazy man and tried out our best jog-in-place dance. It was a great evening, it's been a great summer. I'm going to be sad to have to rejoin the real world.