CultureFest: Eat, Drink, and Learn...But Watch Out For Flying Burritos, Brutha

This past Saturday, the Annual CultureFest was held in Bagwine, aka Springfield, Ohio.

It is a day when unique groups of people in our lovely city come together and listen to different types of bands, chow down on ethnic foods, and celebrate the distinct and divergent patches upon the quilt of humanity.

I truly enjoy it, especially the food and drink. This year was no exception. The children were laughing…the bands were playing, people were dancing…and the food vendors were once again top notch.

The Jamaicans were jerking their chickens. The Greeks were putting their special sauce into everyone’s gyro. There were offerings of German metts, Polish pierogies, and Italian calzones.

This year, a favorite local watering hole, Murphy’s Irish Pub set up a booth and were selling their locally renown, Famine Burger.

Yes, the Famine Burger, folks…It’s a hearty sandwich made with boiled potatoes, sheep shit, and anger, served between two pieces of month old Irish Soda Bread. Yum-O’!!

There was a bit of a hiccup in the joy and jocularity of the event, however.

The dim bulb for the city who was in charge of deciding which food vendor set up where, put Loco Pablo’s Taquiera, next to Hot Rod Lincoln’s Down Home BBQ.

In case you were unaware, as the person in charge obviously was, Mexicans and Blacks don’t get along much of the time. They mix together about as well as oil and water, or in this case…Pig Fat and Jheri Curl Moisturizer.

I don’t know who started what or what was said by whom, but violence erupted between the cooks of those two establishments.

Fortunately, the altercation was no more than a glorified food fight. There were tacos, ham hocks, refried beans, and pulled pork flying everywhere.

After this International incident I spoke with my buddy and owner of the BBQ joint, Leon D. Lincoln, or as he’s know around here, LDL Cholester-Hell, and asked him what happened.
He said…

"I don’t fuckin’ know Matt-Man. One second I’m telling’ Hank to sauce the chickens, and then BAM!!

All I know is that gettin’ hit upside da head by an overstuffed burrito hurts like a muthafuckah. I hadn’t been hurt like that since the day my mama smacked me in da nuts with a red hot fireplace poker."

I found LDL’s burrito story surprising. Not so much by the amount of pain that a burrito can inflict, but I just never thought black people had fireplaces. I guess I learned something at the Culture Fest. Anyhoo…

After the ruckus, um…deruckified…There was a commotion over at the Albanian food tent. Seems those Aegean assholes were cooking up their Rakia Brandy when their 55 gallon drum of propylene glycol fell over and spilled.

Quickly, the Springfield PD and County Haz-Mat professionals responded and sealed off the vaporous contamination by putting up impervious, yellow caution tape.

People being the curious lot that they are, tried to get through the plastic barrier, but that is when our beloved Mayor, Mayor Copeland stepped in.

Mayor Copeland…or as I call him, Dr. Zaius...While donning his I Heart Springfield T-Shirt, held up his hand and with his bellowing voice and simian features, repelled the interlopers by proclaiming…

"You mustn’t go into the Forbidden Zone!!"

The crowd obeyed, went back to drinking, and a Polka band broke into a rousing rendition of The Pennsylvania Polka.

And that’s the way it was at this year’s CultureFest…I can hardly wait until next year.

Cheers!!