Boy meets girl meets Sawdust

WHAT’S SO FUNNY

This summer’s Sawdust Festival will be closing soon, so if you

haven’t gotten out there yet you should hustle.

The Sawdust is a rare triumph -- a long-running, group artistic

endeavor, its own self-sustaining community. I’m fond of the Festival

because, aside from its arts-and-crafts appeal, it’s the scene of my

big boy-girl story.

Nineteen years ago I came to opening night, having wangled an

invitation from Patti Jo Reynolds, whom I knew from the Irvine

newspaper syndicate where we worked. It was Patti Jo’s first year as

a Sawdust exhibitor. Her ambition was to support herself as a

jeweler. My ambition was to get her to go out with me.

I’d never seen a place quite like the Sawdust. The year was 1984

but it seemed like an improved 1968. I was surrounded by a crafts

culture I thought had died during the disco years. The night was

balmy, the grounds brightly-lighted, the music infectious, the aisles

jammed with guests. The atmosphere, the exotic, festive setting, made

me feel, I don’t know ... peppy.

There were lots of options. You could get your face painted, you

could get sculptures, photographs, glass, jewelry ... but you

couldn’t get Patti Jo. She just wanted to be friends.

Well, of course, men don’t want to be friends, and as summer

continued I checked with Patti Jo periodically to see if she’d

changed her mind. Finally I wore her down and, in the same

what-the-hell spirit that a horseplayer bets on Zip Zat Zoot in the

ninth race, she agreed to a date -- also at the Sawdust Festival.

Rather than dwell on the “What could she have been thinking?”

aspect of the story, let’s just say the Sawdust atmosphere worked its

magic and since 1987 I have gotten into the Festival for free as the

spouse of an exhibitor.

Now, my Sawdust story is not typical; you’re not boarding the Love

Boat when you go out there. But the atmosphere is congenial and the

craft is genuine. You’re pretty sure to find something you like.

Over the years Patti Jo has occasionally traded her work with

other artists, so we now have paintings and photographic prints at

our place which have gotten me compliments from old friends on the

improvement in my taste.

Actually, my taste was fine 19 years ago.