Flowers attract bees. Tulips attract artists. Tulip Time attracts lunatics and tourists... the two groups invariably coming into contact, drawn by the same signal. This year’s festival keeps the human calculus in balance. Lemonjello’s swarms with fat tourists wearing pastels and floral prints collected in table-clusters pouring over maps, mispronouncing place names. The lunatics buzz around the tourist’s periphery working in odd orbits. I avoid eye-contact with the lunatics and tourists alike. They might take an inadvertent gaze as an invitation for communication. To chat. No no. I forgot the earphones, oh no. A Korean boy with a full size red bass guitar stands outside the door, peering inside wondering.... wondering I can’t imagine. Go away.
It breaks one’s heart to see a 40-something sweat in a green polo at 65 degrees hold court with an un-medicated psychotic selling “custom” music CDs.
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