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Our neighborhood had an Art Walk last Saturday. It was sunny.

Normally I’m too busy (disinterested in anything of higher culture or requiring effort) to participate in “Art Walks.” Hmmmph. Art Walks. So stupid. Who do these people think they are, Dr. Seuss? The presumptive pageantry reeks of guilty bourgeoisie compensating for their teeming wealth by slathering Patchouli Oil over their naked, sweaty flesh as they consume champagne and caviar atop their parapets, even though I don’t actually understand Marxism.

But this year is obviously different. For normal people at least.

So yes, I plugged my nose and prepared to bring a healthy dose of disgust to the general area located around my house. 

My wife, son and dog came along! His name is Benji. The dog.  Yesterday we thought he ate a grape. It turned out to be a $277.00 ghost grape. Because somehow I’ve gone through 46 years of life and several dog ownership periods without knowing grapes are deathly toxic and/or poisonous to dogs. 

I gave my son grapes for lunch. Well, plus some other stuff. And then, to my unknown horror, a few moments later I saw the stupid dog trying to bury something in the rug, the act of which is symbolized by an adorable albeit makes-him-look-like-an-idiot technique of sort of nosing over the item to be disappeared/buried. 

You know, like a pig rooting around with its nose in the mud, kind of flipping over gross things to eat. 

Then, to my further horror, my son discovered it was an errant grape that must have landed on our grape-colored (no joke) kitchen floor. Which led to the $277.00 Great Grape Panic of Monday August 3rd 2020, wherein I researched via my favorite search engine “WebCrawler” and discovered a bunch of alarmist propaganda stating that the stupid grape (not the one he “buried,” the mystery one Benji may have eaten but we didn’t know for sure) could easily cause liver failure and death or something.

I tried to blow it off, but the kid was crying because he actually cares about living things (gets it from his mother) so I called the vet who confirmed Benji The Dog Wonder should be brought in for a fun stomach pump.

No grape was found. Benji is alive. It’s for the best. Cost $277.00.

So me and the family and the dog are walking around on Saturday at the Because Of COVID Art Fair and even though I had my practiced sneer ready to rock it turned out to be quite an impressive affair. All of these moderately attractive to attractive people displayed their wares (for Capitalist retail sale, but I chose to overlook this vulgar display of oozing greed for the sake of my family) in kind of cool ways, many utilizing their fences as marketing communication tools (see attached photo) or art holders or in some select cases as ways to keep me out of their homes.

Better yet, several up-and-coming Wall Street Trader/Ponzi Scheme Developers aged 4-8 showed quite a bit of initiative by proffering various food and beverage items for sale at absurdly low prices, likely a benefit from not having to establish a true Cost of Goods metric or line item for Overhead in their P&L’s since this was wittingly and/or unwittingly covered by the homeowner/parent(s). 

Thus I got a good deal on some chocolate chip cookies and lemonade. 

Someone else sold Macaroons out of her cute Volkswagen Van, but she seemed to be a legit businessperson. Shame on her. 

The moral of the story is, don’t trust artists because they’re all greedy, money grubbing richies, but it’s kind of nice to experience their bizarre rituals if you’re ever super bored anytime soon. Plus it’s summer, you should get outside.  

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