These are the thoughts of a Texas transplant in West Michigan who makes his living as a newspaper reporter by evening, and a struggling novelist by day.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

a night at the fair

dawn and i attended the west ottawa migrant community fair last night for the first time as a couple and to support it and our friend denise.

the three previous times i'd covered the event as a reporter, i'd take three or four hours off during thew eek and make them up on saturday to attend the fair and write about it. i always had fun, but left quickly to return to the office to write about it, so i couldn't fully take it all in. plus, i never understood why i had to cover in years past and not the weekend reporter (as steve did yesterday). perhaps it was thought that i, being latino, would better mesh in with the migrant crowd, despite having nothing in common with them, except we're all latinos, and mexican-american, to be more specific.

either way, yesterday we went and had a grand time. we entered the school and met up with people from beginning to end. we closed down the place. we met bida as we walked in and caught up and the list went on to mig, denise, aida, dora, rick and others who i'd catch if i was there to write the story.

it was so much fun, dancing and moving around, food to chomp on and good conversations. i couldn't stop moving my feet. denise and i did our little jig and two-stepped as usual. crazy gal.

we quickly engaged on conversation with one of denise's friends, diana, and by the evening's end -- at 1 a.m., we'd become friends, too.

the event is set to introduce the migrants back into the community with food, info booths, music and friendship. it was a sucess, i think. people were milling around and havinga good time. i support this event and am glad it takes place. kudos to the folks who put this together. they do a wonderful job.

after the fair, we couldn't just go home. we had to continue the party mood. off to 84 East for some food and drinks and laughter. we closed down that place and off to skiles down the street. we really let go there among the hazy cigarette smoke, talking and music. i hadn't laughed so hard as i did then. i helped to be somewhat inebriated, though. good times.

eat, drink and be merry. not a bad motto.


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