Hear Ye, Here Ye!

There's just something about field trips that I've never grown weary of. There was a Mother's Day theme going on at Sturbridge Village on Sunday and mom's were let in free. Children under 2, free. 42 year old children, 20 bucks.

Gladly.

Let me in.



We've been to several of these living history museums: Plymouth, Storrowtown, Hancock Shaker, Deerfield. But none are so large or interesting as nearby Sturbridge. Plymouth was close, but being a little too realistic, most of the houses there looked identical and the entire area was much smaller.

This place is far more varied and colorful.



It was a bit more crowded than I would have preferred, which kind of dampened the early 19th century feel, but not too bad.





More disappointing was the relatively low number of reenactors compared to my earlier visits. But hopefully that's because it's still early in the season. A few years back the old sawmill was actually a working sawmill for instance, with a couple men cutting and planing large boards from logs as the giant wheel turned. Not so today.



Not that there weren't any reenactors at all. Most of the buildings had at least one on hand, and you would pass a couple along the dirt paths between sections of the village.



But quality over quantity, the reenactors that were available were thankfully completely in character. Viddy this cooper explaining how work was bartered, in a small village where coin was hard to come by:



At several locations there were hoops, rope, and sticks set up for playing; this lady was demonstrating to children the PS2 of the day.



...Meanwhile a tug of war raged on the common, thankfully drawing a good chunk of the visitors and providing some elbow room for us in the tiny houses.



Most of the buildings and houses were open to the public; like the parlor in this small unassuming house. It was a room probably very like my living room growing up: off limits to children.



Other than the parlor in this particular house, everything was open for the handling. Drawers could be opened, cupboards examined, the bed layed on. A board of checkers was on a table for a quick game. (btw, the original name for checkers was 'Draughts', the word checkers originally meant the substitute pieces they used in place of real pieces that were lost...)

Away from the town common and the circle of church, school house, bank, lawyer's office and general store, could be found more bucolic circumstances.





After a walk through a windy high meadow, we descended down into ol' man Freeman's farm, where much of the local livestock was available for feeding and petting... and eating...







It look liked ol' man Freeman was busy tilling with his boys,



...so we continued on, following the dirt path back to the town center and stopping here and there along the way to check out the long horned cattle and feisty goats behind the fences. Not too much of a barrier between the large animals and the passerby but overall, the situation was safe for lambs and babies alike.





The afternoon was gone before we knew it, and Kelly had to get back to our century and to work, so our tour of the past was finished for now.

My 20 dollar pass is good for 10 days so who knows, if the weather turns warmer again soon, I might just take another spin back in time...

A Mixed Bag

We took a trip out to Boston on Saturday, (on a tip from the Cosmos Report), to get a sense of the festivities a-happenin' on the Common, at the 20th annual Freedom Rally to legalize marijuana.

The event started at 'high noon', and we got there about one to find the huge common brimming with partyers. Bands were playing on two stages on either side of the main hill on the common, and here and there were smaller musical groups and wandering troupes.





The tunes being cranked out from the main stages were definitely not what I was expecting for a pot rally. Maybe because it was being held in such a large urban center, or maybe because the event was mostly populated with 20 year-olds...but this was certainly not a 60's revival.



Gone were the dreamy, peace-evoking, fantasy-driven songs of the hippie era; instead there were thrashing guitars and angsty lyrics, by groups like 'Graveyard Barbecue' -(playing exactly the kind of music you'd expect from a band called 'Graveyard Barbecue')...

Hip-Hop was the other main genre to be heard on the common, and leaning heavily towards the gangsta-end of that musical spectrum...here's a quick 360 with the sound:



But other than the aggressive music, the vibe everywhere was a peaceful one, and just about everyone seemed to be in high spirits and having fun.







Hula-Hoops and Hacky-Sacks were on the scene, as expected.





At events like this there are always those that really get into the spirit of things, and this one was no exception...



Conversely, in other cases, the spirits sometimes get the best of the festival goers...





In between music sets, a long list of pro-marijuana-legalizing speakers cajoled the crowds and worked them up into frothy indignation with angry and impatient declarations on the safe uses of marijuana, medical and recreational, and reminded the smokers of their new-born misdemeanor rights. There was particular criticism of what they considered illegal search and seizures being conducted on the common, even as they spoke.

Law enforcement was everywhere, interspersed among the crowd and mostly undercover. Kelly and I had some fun picking out the undercover cops... Their clothing was generally legit looking, but the ultra-short haircuts and serious demeanor gave them away every time. They were busy and apparently had their hands full; just in the vicinity of our travels alone we witnessed a dozen instances of police intervention in the smoking habits of the festival goers.



In one of those instances the perps were led away by the police to some unknown fate. In most cases we witnessed, the smokers were just searched and their small stash, or joint, or two, was simply taken away from them with an admonishment.



Only once, we saw that handcuffs were involved.



But the flood of misdemeanors must have been overwhelming. By 4:20 that afternoon, the smoke hung over the crowd like fog. Trust me, there were no grills and very few tobacco products involved in the pictures below:









The police was doing what they could, but since small marijuana amounts have been reduced to a misdemeanor, they'll have to stick to catching the big fish.





Throughout the crowd, some folks had brought their personal axes to grind and their world views to promote...







Others came to make a buck off of the smokers' appetites in style and entertainment.





Speaking of appetites, we had brought lunch with us and had some grinders sitting on the green, and then took a walk across the street to check out the public gardens and take a needed break from the madness, noise and commotion on the common.



It was just what the doctor ordered.





Ah. Here, a baby could breathe easy.



...as could an adult, with a clear mind...

Our batteries recharged; we decided to go back into the storm for one last look around before going home.





I split with Kelly and the bloggerette, who headed up the hill, and waded into the crowd one more time.



At this time an associate publisher of High Times magazine was in mid-exhortation, railing about his life-long fight and sacrifice to legalize cannabis; emphasising that though his fight is almost done, it's up to the young folks in the crowd to carry on and complete the task.



He had the crowd cheering. But disturbingly, just as the publisher was bellowing over and over that "Marijuana is harmless!, Marijuana is harmless!"...several of us in the audience noticed a very young girl, about 4 years old. She was all by herself in the jostling crowd and holding on to a pink toddler's stroller with a 3 month old, (and not very healthy-looking) baby hunched over in it. We were all about 5 rows back from the booming amplifiers, which were painfully blaring "Marijuana is harmless!"...It was a heart-breaking scene.

After several more minutes we all began to scan around for the still-missing parent, when a bleary-eyed woman finally made her way over from who knows where and wobbly leaned on the stroller. A minute later a man stumbled over, re-lighting and puffing on a glass pipe as he stood with the woman and kids...

That last scene served to remind me that marijuana may be relatively harmless on it's own...but it's not for everybody.



Catching up with Kelly and bloggerette, we sat for a few more minutes at the top of the hill before packing up, ending up winding out our bizarre visit to the common with a small Hare Krishna parade...



...harking back to a much older pot smokers' generation...