on the avenue, park avenue

This is a street festival. Billions of people come. There is art and craft and food and music and porch parties and street performers, and, yes, drinks in a monkey head. In short, the kind of show that I find fun to visit, but I wouldn't want to sell there.

Which is good, because I didn't. Not much, anyway.

Some folks did really well, some tanked. There often is no rhyme or reason to this stuff. It just wasn't my kind of crowd. But then I noticed this odd phenomenon. In the art show business, we refer to the "conveyor belt". It's when the crowd just flows by your booth, never stopping in, as if they were on a moving sidewalk with no ability to step off the ride. Usually, though, they at least glance your way. Not here. I called it the conveyor march. They marched by the booth, purposefully, as if there was a bus at the corner they had to catch. It was a stride, not a stroll.



Hup, two, three, four...

OK. The veterans told me the Sunday crowd would be bigger, better, more likely to shop. Cool. I could wait. And they were right. Mostly. The crowd WAS bigger, better. But they also did the eyes ahead march, just in a denser cadre..



What's up with that? Slow down, people. There is stuff to be seen here. Relax, have fun...

So, anyway, we tried it. Saw good friends, ate unhealthy food, shopped, sold some stuff. Could be worse.