Children of the Corn

WELCOME TO WESTFEST 2009

WestFest is our annual celebration that commemorates
the establishment of West Valley City and recognizes
its citizen's various cultural backgrounds.

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The above information was listed on the official web site for WestFest (http://www.westfest.org/westfest2009.html). In addition to the fireworks, there are carnival rides (which I NEVER ride on for lack of trust in their safety regulations. Don't want to be the next victim on those "Tragedy Caught on Camera" television shows.), local entertainment and both food and retail vendors. Essentially, it is a scaled-down version of the State Fair without the cows. I've been attending WestFest every year since moving down the street nearly seven years ago and semi-regularly before then when my brother lived downt the street in the opposite direction. This is not to brag, but I know what I'm talking about when it comes to WestFest. You could call me a WestFexpert, but I wish you wouldn't.

To support the local community, I went after work on opening night. As I approached the first talent stage, I could hear the musical styling of Josiah Barlow. He was a solo act on stage with just an electric piano. The music was a beautiful mix of non-verbal classical and contemporary sounds that reminded me of listening to a movie score. Not bad for a West Valleyite. He was really attractive, which only added to my entertainment pleasure. Sorry, but wishing I had brought my camera did not generate one photo. I enjoyed his music so much that when he said a particular song had been dedicated last year to his unborn child and how he wanted to now re-dedicate it to his baby who was here to enjoy it just before her first birthday, I didn't cringe in the remorse of crushed fantasy, nor did I whisper, "Damn Breeder" under my breath. He was really good and suggested I (meaning an invitation to the crowd) buy a CD. Wish I had, frankly, but I couldn't stay until the end of the show (my e-crops were about to wilt, but that is another story). Really good and the music varied in style.

I left Josiah with one more empty chair in a sea of unfulfilled expectation, wondering why more people hadn't cared enough to come out to see him play. My hunger from not having eaten all day quelled my guilt and I toddled off toward the food vendors. Mistake # 1. I should have stayed. Vendors selling carnival-type food from pizza, cotton candy, BBQ, slushy fruit drinks lined two sides of a tent with tables and chairs. One such booth sold hot dogs, hamburgers and corn dogs. Love me a good corn dog at the Fair, so I stopped, which proved to be mistake # 2. When I saw the corn dogs were the same Foster Farms corn dogs I sometimes buy at Wal Mart with the exception that these people planned to deep fry them in luke-warm grease instead of a hot grease-free oven, I chose the cheeseburger instead. $7 for a cold "let's hope this is meat" patty with a slice of cheese on a bun. No lettuce, tomato, pickles. They gave me some off-name mayo and catsup packets, some fries cooked in the same luke-warm grease and a Dr. Pepper (the only part of the "meal" I enjoyed).

As this was getting later in the evening, WestFest traffic was very light. I thought about heading back to Josiah, but didn't want to juggle the plate in my lap. Mistake # 3. I sat in the tables in the middle of the booths and tried to quickly swallow the most expensive regret I've had in a long while. The food was bad enough to make me completely re-think the idea of supporting the community. But wait, there's more. Instead of being deep within the booth as the two culinary criminals were before my poorly thought out purchase, the one thing that could have made the experience worse happened. All memory of daylight had slipped behind the western sky and the light in the tent above my table illuminated the scene with what felt like a spot light. Suddenly my eating disaster became every one's business. Luckily, the only two who cared to watch (more like stare with utter fascination) were the two who sold me the gruel. They had come out of their booth and planted themselves in front staring straight ahead at me. One sat. One stood. Once positioned, their bodies never moved. Their heads did not turn, nor, for all I could tell, did their eyes blink. It was seriously creepy. An image from the horror film, "Children of the Corn" came to mind, though I only saw the trailer. I thought about shoving the food back in their faces and demanding a refund, but it was carnival food, so what did I expect? Of course, what had seemed lack-luster in all the other booths just moments before suddenly looked like gold covered in chocolate.


Note to the Corn Children: Were you staring to see if I would actually eat that crap you made me pay so much for? When I finished it, did one of you win a bet? Were you just amazed that someone actually ate your food without throwing up? Maybe it would improve your sales if you didn't come across as demon children. At least have the decency to look away when people struggle to put down the last bite. You may have seen a calm fat gay man on a rickety chair enjoying your fabulous creation. From MY side of the table, it felt like an eating scene from Fear Factor with a side order of evil.