Mayfest Memories

Some of the stories you TDT readers shared about your Mayfest/Blue Dome Arts Festival/Art Car weekend are just too good to leave buried in the comments on this blog and the madness that is my Facebook page.

Below are a few that have popped into my mind over the past couple of days, causing me to burst out laughing at inappropriate moments or sigh wistfully as I waited in line at the grocery store or smile to myself as I watched my kid dump sand on his head at the playground.

Vnecv wrote:

Mayfest has always been special because my birthday is in May! Every year in middle and high school, my dad and I would come and wander the artists on Saturday looking for just the perfect birthday gift for me. Rows and rows of the best jewelery, photos, painting and more. I think I had the most varied art collection of any freshman going off to college. I'm now 37, married with two kids, so I will always remember the special May memories with my dad.

ambientchatter wrote:

...took my girlfriend (now wife) in 94 to Mayfest, ate some great apple strudel, listened to some great jazz at the stage by the water fountain in the main mall. First kiss later that night. Guess the Mayfest magic worked.

suburban hippie mama wrote:

Last year at Mayfest I was VERY PREGNANT w/ twins. Hoping to put myself in labor I walked from Mayfest to the Blue Dome everyday...there are some pretty big hills. I was so incredibly huge that artist (who were strangers)were actually giving my unborn twins gifts! I love Tulsa.

And my favorite one of all, from Joe Noman:

It was the 2001 event. I was in the company of a co-worker. I did not know her very well, but she had overheard me telling my boss that I was going and she sorta invited herself. We were listening to some band that was not very good. We had bought some coneys and were lucky enough to find an empty bench to sit on. Good food and good seating; how could I have asked for more? Then the band played a slow, bluesy song. My companion grabs my hand and tells me how nice it would be for me to ask her to dance. But I had found comfortable seating and I was eating coneys. It would have taken a tornado to move me at that moment. So like the yutz that I am, I just sat there and did not ask her to dance. The next thing I know, I get a large-sized cup of strawberry soda dumped on my head and a styrofoam tray of half-eaten coneys smashed in my face. And as I watched my, now very offended, companion stomp away; it occured to me that I probably did not handle that particular situation very well. Not surprisingly, she never spoke to me again.

Thanks, you guys. I love being let in on the zaniness of your lives.

Image by Amanda Emerson at havesporkwilltravel.blogspot.com. Blue Dome Art Festival, 2009.