Hudson’s Booster Days: It’s a tradition unlike any other. The collective goal of this entire bedroom community is to maximize your people-watching whilst drinking enough Jack’s Downhome Punch to fill a small aquarium – but not so much that you lose control of your own body and become one of the people other people are people-watching. Eventually, you lose; but the best you can hope for is your moment of defeat came after dark.
On Saturday night, Smooth and I swiped one side of a picnic table almost front-and-center to the stage. If I had to tell you exactly where our seats were, I’d say …
– Fifteen feet and at 10:00 to a fuchsia-haired woman hula hooping in the grass. She brought others for those wishing to join her; and, in case you had any question who was really the star of tonight’s show, her hoops lit up when it got dark. The band was just background noise.
– Directly behind a man with an Obese Alvin the Chipmunk face and his table of unsavories, the most of which was a Lex Luger-looking (except washed-up and beer-gutted) man with his cell phone case clipped to the V-neck of his T-shirt.
– Right in a walking lane, right where a man passed by at 8:36 p.m. wearing an “I’d Mess with Texas” T-shirt. Smooth’s observation: “I wouldn’t mess with Texas in flippy-floppies.” Clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp!
– With enough cut-off tees and “tank tops lacking forethought” in our radius to cover the ozone hole. It did well, however, to remind me how in the minority I am for not having a tattoo.
– Kitty Corner from the most ill-fated attempt to fight off the aging process. Said Smooth, “That is NOT good looking out by her friends!” Smooth kept fighting – in vain – the impulse to keep looking at her and repeating herself.
– Ten feet from a small child beating his younger brother with a small inflatable hammer, and 20 feet from a group of children playing catch with a crumpled-up ball of garbage.
– Perhaps eight feet and almost directly behind a piranha-faced woman with a body like the manure pile in Jurassic Park.
– A man’s T-shirt with this quote on the back: “Do not walk in front of me, I may not follow. Do not walk behind me, I may not lead. Walk beside me, and be my friend.” I don’t think he was wearing it sarcastically. I do know, if you walk behind him, you’ll see his exit door hanging out of his shorts; if you walk in front of him, … you know what, let’s just leave his face alone.
– Where it started to sprinkle at 9:46 p.m. Smooth wisely stuffed her phone into her cleavage. By “wisely,” I mean, “Wisely until I started texting her one-letter messages to make it vibrate.” Because I’m a grown man. AAAAFRANKKRYjZFyyFTEcKFbmDex Apparently, I was spelling my name FNKRA at the end of the night.
– Finally, 20 feet at 6:00 from the stage, where Uncle Chunk incited a dance riot of backwards-capped and pink-haired 50-somethings dancing their mid-life crises away; children stepping on squished alcohol containers; and all the great people of Hudson. During the daytime, they’re all SUV-guiding soldiers in a giant anthill. But during Booster Days, everything comes back, and everything goes away.