Sunday, September 13, 2009




This town breaks into festivals every other weekend all summer long, food and rides and tents and music emerging into place as if up out of the ground. Peaches came into season, so it’s the Peach Festival. Fried dough, hot dogs, souvlaki served up by St. George volunteers, peach cobbler and peach pop, maple lollipops and maple cotton candy . . . and the tilt-o-whirl, on which TJ yells out in glee “my penis feels tickley!” The bandstand goes all day, all night, with “Lady Line Dancers” in sequined outfits, gloved girls dancing to “Beat It” in competition for the title of Peach Queen. We won a fish by getting the ball into the libray fundraising bowl, and we named him Silver. Finally the Elvis impersonator takes the stage as we walk off toward the dregs of sunset over Lake Ontario. Ears looks out at the waterhorizon, so big it scares him and he leans into me, "It makes me feel like everything might end."