Blind Ambition

So, I'm not really ambitious.

At least not by most people's standards.

Ambitious for me is trying to do laundry with three kids who are simultaneously and repeatedly calling my name, hanging onto my legs, and throwing things at me.  Ambitious is trying to unload the dishwasher without a certain two-year-old getting to the plates before I can, and smashing them on the floor. Ambitious is trying to take a shower. By myself. And actually getting to rinse the conditioner out of my hair before they find me.

But occasionally, I have delusional moments where I forget the limits of my own ambition, and I think I am a normal person who can plan things, and organize things, and create things, and actually do things. So, a few months ago, I thought it would be a great idea to have a booth for Jimmy's business at a local festival. A few business cards, some free stuff to throw at people as they walk by, and a tent. How hard could it be?

So I ordered some pencils with our name on them. And then, thinking pencils may not be very enticing, I ordered some tape measures with our name on them. Then I realized that we needed a banner, so I ordered a banner with our name on it. I arranged to borrow a tent, and then read the fine print about the tent needing to have certain wording on the label, so I bought a tent. Then I read the fine print about providing insurance documentation so I called the insurance company. Repeatedly. I bought five cases of water to give away, and then I read the fine print about not being allowed to give away water. I ordered pictures. I put them on a display. I ordered samples. I drove two hours to pick it up the samples. And I realized, this was way more work than I had anticipated. It was all probably just a little too, well...ambitious.

The festival itself was fine, thanks to Caca staying with the kids while we set up, and then bringing them later in the day for a while. Jimmy had thought it would be best if he stayed home with the kids once we'd set up. Yes, I did just say that Caca had the kids at the festival for part of the day. Huh. Funny how that worked out. Anyway, It was about 90 degrees, which I thought might be a problem, but there was also a beer stand thirty feet away. Fortunately, I took high school geometry not once, but twice, so I happen to know that 90 degrees-30 feet to the beer stand= approximately 60 degrees. And if you factor in the several trips I made to the beer stand throughout my eleven hours of giving free stuff away in 90 degree temperatures, it was practically freezing by the time we left last night.

The pencils were not, in fact, enticing. To put it simply, no one goes to a festival for a free friggin pencil. I know this now. I will be mailing them out with our Christmas cards instead. Or maybe sooner. If you'd like one, please let me know. I'd be happy to send you one thirty. The tape measures, however, were quite a hot item, especially with the under ten crowd. They made jump ropes with them. They made belts with them. They made lassos with them. They also made other fair goers crazy with them, as they swung them around as people attempted to walk by. And, I suspect, they are making their parents insane with them at this very moment. The tape measures were also a hot item with grown ups--at least the ones who knew that they were, in fact, tape measures. One woman repeatedly pushed the red "release" button and asked me if it was a panic button. Another held it up to her ear and waited for...something, before looking at me quizzically and walking away. A grown man dressed as a gladiator took one and excitedly began playing with it, before thanking me several times for what was apparently the best gift he has received in quite some time. Overall, women were much more into the tape measures than men were. I think they might make men a little nervous for some reason.

A few friends stopped by throughout the day. Even they didn't want our friggin pencils.

At one point, I took a break and caught up with some old friends who were listening to the band. They offered to buy me beer. I offered to give them pencils. They didn't want our friggin pencils either. I took the beer anyway.

Later in the day, the people who stopped were all, well, drunk. They told me that the pictures of Jimmy's work were beautiful. They told me that they loved our banner. They told me that they loved the festival. And beer. And I think one guy told me that he loved me.

I gave him two tape measures.

I tried to give him a pencil, but apparently, that was a little too ambitious.