Festing

"Come with me."
"No."
"Pleeeaaaaassseee?"
"No."
"I'll make eggplant Parmesan just for you."
"No. I am not going to drive all the way to Tucson just to sit around while you do your thing at some conference."
"Oh, but it's not a conference, it's a FESTIVAL!" I zoomed in for the kill. "There'll be funnel cake!"
Two hours later long-suffering hubby and I arrived at the Tucson Festival of Books on the campus of the University of Arizona. To say it is a large event is an understatement. Don't believe me? http://tucsonfestivalofbooks.org
I did have "my thing" to do, but in between carrying stuff, holding stuff and guarding stuff while I waited in line for various restrooms, hubby was more than able to entertain himself among the booths, bookstore tents, and of course the food court. I presented with the author of my two books on Muslim holidays, Asma Mobin-Uddin, signed some books, and gave a drawing workshop for kids. The workshop's four o'clock time slot had me sure I would be taking a well deserved nap instead, but surprisingly I had a nice turnout of future authors and illustrators. Asma and I had to compete in our time-slot with some dude named Mark Teague, of whom I'm VAGUELY aware, so attendance was not standing room only. There is no accounting for taste. This was the first time Asma and I had met in person, something which seems to boggle everyone except writers and illustrators. Usually, an editor or art director umbrella is needed to protect each from the poo storm that is unleashed when one dares to comment or criticize the other's writing or art. Fortunately, Asma and I realized we could probably have handled it. Mostly.
" Please, please, everyone, no pushing, single file! There's enough autographs to go around!"
How cool is this? Huh? Huh? That's right-my books! In a STORE! Animal Mischief was there too! Piles of them! I had to sit down.
One of the highlights of the day was spotting the various book characters, obviously student volunteers in large, foam suits of dubious cleanliness. We saw a rather pasty Junie B., a slightly linty Hungry Caterpillar, a Wild Thing that almost got stuck in the doorway (and me without my video camera) as well as several fast food characters.
"Can you believe that," I voiced my outrage to hubby over the crass commercialization aimed at kids while I slurped down my third McFrappilicious as the Hamburglar and Grimace waddled by. I turned just in time to see hubby sprinting after them.