Everyone said, “No, Chris, this is the wrong time, wrong economy, wrong region, wrong fruit, do not put on your own One-Man Peach Festival. We need the money to repair the driveway.”

These people are nice, but they lack vision. If I possess anything, it’s 400 freshly-printed “First Annual Southeast Michigan Area Peach Festival” puffy-transfer hats AND the ability to see the future. And I see a robust, three-weekend, limited-parking Peach Festival taking place largely in the behind-the-garage section of my backyard during the dwindling summer weeks of late August when the spider-flies and toe-biting worms are at their worst.

Families from all over northern Ohio and southern Ontario will make their way here to learn, love and live Peaches, nature’s favorite fruit and the only round object taken to the moon by the Apollo astronauts. And we’ll have a floating magician and a learning tent and custom-made postcards and the ghost of Abraham Lincoln (maybe)!


I see the festival as a service – A WAY OF GIVING BACK – and hope to have most of my family out of the way at a Will Reading or something. No more distractions! I’ll poison the city council if that’s what it comes to. Look you’re not stopping me.

Even now, when it’s just me, alone, standing in the yard all night because there wasn’t any promotion or permits pulled for this kind of thing. And true, all I have right now is enough money to purchase all the dented cans of Spartan Brand sliced and halved peaches down at the Slippery Mart. But I’ve opened all of them and arranged them in a big circle pattern around where I stand. And if I can just figure out the Timer Option on this damn camera…

ANYWAY – COME ONE COME ALL to the Peach Festival!

Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.

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