On June 9th we had the pleasure of attending the Sunfish Creek Festival held in Clarington. Seeing the first yard sale, we concluded that we had reached the center of the jubilee, and proceeded up street to the activities.

We saw an enormous crowd, perhaps 25 persons, most of them selling cheap items that, outside of any craft store, would have been considered garage sale quality. We looked around some, but there was nothing to see, save some lovely high school cheerleaders at a booth and a child wandering about in a fluffy, mad-hatter hat holding a box labeled, “tips”. She seemed displeased with her profession though, perhaps on account of the emptiness of the box. All considered, we felt poverty had engulfed the community, on account of all the beggars there.

We lingered on the street, as it was rather the end of the show, and waited for the Riverboat Museum to open. The well displayed museum’s history brought to mind simpler and more moral times, when people still knew how to socialize and entertain their guests, without begging for your dime or selling you their trash. This thought was destroyed when we read their publication, “The Boat in the Attic.”

After standing around for another interminable period of time looking for new yard sales that had sprung up without our knowledge, we found no further attraction in that circle. Desirous to be amused, we found the only fun in town was watching children attempt to bite a frustrated flock of plastic ducks in a pool of water. If one grew tired of the sport, there were a dozen two liter pops to lasso with a ring. Otherwise, it was back to harassing the ducks.

The Conestoga was another form of entertainment. We first thought it was a John Deere tractor on account of its color and perhaps should have been with the five or six tractors in the tractor show, but when the mules were attached we realized our mistake almost at once.

The church furnished the most ungreased though poor tasting food around: sloppy Joes, chicken and noodles, and hot dogs. After choking that down, we indulged in some pie, which fared better than the main course.

Finding nothing on the itinerary for some hours, we left before the really stupendous events began, packed into the car, and headed away wondering why it was called the Sunfish Festival. We thought that the Clarington Yard Sale Festival would be more appropriate.

Matthew Koogler

Woodsfield