[TheChamp-Sharing]

SHOW NOTES

Quick overview of this week's show:

• What happened at Fair St. Louis in 2005 and why it was the most memorable 4th of July for me
• Random people-watching session that inspired a short story

TRANSCRIPT

In the United States, the 4th of July, or Independence Day is a major holiday.

People love to barbecue, spend time with family, and of course, take to the streets and shoot off fireworks.

For days and days before (and after) the holiday, you can hear people shooting them off, even if it’s against the law.

In my hometown of St. Louis, nothing spells 4th of July like Fair St. Louis, which is basically our version of a state fair. Thousands gather downtown for concerts and entertainment, food, fireworks, and alcohol.

In this week’s episode I’m going to talk about a people-watching session I had all the way back in 2005. This one’s an oldie but a goodie.

***

Hello, and welcome to episode 19 of the podcast.

In this week’s sketchbook episode, which may be the oldest dated sketchbook entry yet, I wanted to talk about one of the most memorable 4th of July holidays I have ever had.

The year was 2005.

I had a crew of friends and we did just about everything together. We played in jazz band together, volunteered with the American Red Cross for community service, and just generally hung out all the time on weekends.

One of my friends found out that the Black-Eyed Peas were playing at the fair, so we decided to go see them.

That year, the fair was downtown on the riverfront of the Mississippi River under the Gateway Arch.

So if you’ve ever seen St. Louis in pictures or been there yourself, you can imagine how cool it would have been to be among thousands of people, sitting on the grass under the arch, watching the river flow by and the Black-Eyed Peas singing their greatest hits.

***

We drive into downtown St. Louis, and buildings rise all around us as we fight traffic and rivers of pedestrians in order to find a parking garage.

I’m the lucky one driving, and my knuckles are practically white as I park the car on the top floor of a parking garage.

Being teenage boys, we take the stairs, joking and laughing several blocks, all the way down to the St. Louis Gateway Arch.

There are people everywhere, drinking beer, smoking, and chatting.

Underneath the Arch is a giant stage, yet we can hardly see it because we’re so far back.

The sun is bright in the sky, spinning sequins off the brown water of the Mississippi. The sky is endlessly blue, and it’s so bright that I wish I brought sunglasses.

I want to eat something but I don’t have any more money so I can’t. I’d used my paycheck from my job to pay for gas to and from the fair.

My stomach rumbles.

***

We’re sitting on a concrete wall, and it’s hot. Sweltering hot and humid, only in the way that St. Louis weather can be. Not even the breeze coming off the river can cool us down.

There’s this game we like to play. It’s a people watching game. Each of us pick out the most interesting person in sight. We talk about the person’s story and find a good laugh about it.

Various acts take the stage, play entire sets.

Of course, they keep the Black-Eyed Peas until the end, so after the fifth or sixth act, the sun is lower in the sky, and the first hint of night appears in the clouds, the skyscrapers start to blink on.

The Black-Eyed Peas take the stage, and everyone erupts into applause as they sing their hits.

They put on a pretty good concert. Not memorable, but definitely not bad.

Still, I’m hungry.

***

The concert ends, and fireworks erupt over the river. Brilliant bursts of red, blue, and purple, they fill the sky and everyone applauds as music plays.

At this point it’s around nine or ten o’clock, and we’re tired. We’ve got curfew to make.

We navigate through crowds of people making their way out of the park.

We make it back to my car and as I pull out of the parking garage, we run into trouble.

Big trouble.

Traffic is backed up for miles.

Now, traffic in St. Louis is a normal thing. It usually takes at least 30 minutes to 45 minutes one-way to get anywhere in GOOD traffic.

But this traffic jam is the worst I’ve ever seen.

All over, cars are spilling out of parking garages. People are honking aggressively at each other.

My stomach rumbles again, and my eyes fall down to my dashboard.

I’ve only got half a tank of gas at best.

***

We sit in traffic for four hours, listening to all the angry people shouting out of their cars.

There’s no accident, no hold up. Just the natural result of thousands of people crowding into a small area on a Saturday night holiday.

I have to call my grandmother to tell her I’ll be late.

I don’t know my way around downtown very well, and smartphones hadn’t been invented yet, so imagine me with a printout from MapQuest with step by step directions, consulting it to find out where to turn next.

My friends and I are tired. Exhausted.

But there are so many people walking on the street that we start to play our game again.

We’re sitting at a corner and a bunch of pedestrians pass by on the sidewalk. Among them is a middle aged black man in a bright yellow suit and a pimp hat. Seriously, the suit is as yellow as a banana. He’s wearing sunglasses and has an immaculate brown Bible under his arm. He’s also wearing shiny brown shoes with wingtips. He struts down the street.

Randomly, he shouts something about everyone needing to find Jesus and then disappears around a corner.

My friends and I all look at each other. And then we start cracking up.

***

Hope you liked that one. I didn’t get home that night until around 2AM.

Oh, and the gentleman I saw in the yellow suit inspired a short story that eventually ended up in my book, Reconciled People. It’s called “The Book of Cutty” and it’s about a black man who sets up camp on the Las Vegas Strip trying to convert as many people to Jesus as he can, and then the devil shows up to stop him.

Because I kept a description of him, I was able to use that nearly seven years later in 2012 when I sat down to write “The Book of Cutty.” That’s how valuable my sketchbook has been to me all these years.

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

“A day without sunshine is, like, you know, night.” Steve Martin

 

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