Ryan S.
Yelp
Short for Community Festival, Comfest has happened every summer since '72. Its purpose is to push ideas: for people over profit, the equality of all people, and that basic necessities of life are rights, not privileges. That's all well and good; but do we actually take those values from the fest and activate them in the rest of our lives?
From a cynical prospective Comfest can seem like nothing more than a hippie St Pats Day; on a day in March we are Irish, in May we are Hispanic, October Zombies, and the last week in June we are Dead Heads, Hare Krishna peaceniks, and Hot Topic layered flower children. Just a dress up playtime before we toss off the psychedelic threads and return to our hyper-consumerist, my-me-mine, dog-eat-dog, rat race world.
I hadn't been there since 2000, but circled it as a must do after I finally secured summer weekends off. I remembered my wild times in the '90s, when it still had an edge. I could employ the old canard "It's become popular, now it sucks," but I am not going to because I enjoyed my Sunday trip this year. Delightful art tents and venders, steaming food trucks, and a variety of music found in every corner energizes and gets you swaying.
The people that pack the old park are the main entertainment, though it really is just the same old crowd you'd find at the fair, they just act different. There's the business man in flea marked scruffy finds, the pharmaceutical rep in floral dresses and suede vests, the dude-bros in a Rastafarian hats, mothers in loose puffy blouses and beads, the frat girls with fury boots, the geography teacher in tie-dyed tees, teenybopper and a number of babe in strollers all letting loose in the smog of rag weed and the constant bubbling water of bong.
There is lots to do and see here. They close Park Street past Goodale and vendors and trucks run into the Arena District. The crowd can be huge, so it takes some skill to transverse it fluidly. Bring a blanket or chair to sit on--I forgot to do so and my friend and I had to sit on dirt (It's been awhile.) You can not bring your own beer anymore, so you have to buy it there; the choices sucked this year; Miller Light or Paps, or a $7 overpriced Columbus Brewery IPA where the choices. Bring cash. The ATM here do not value people over profit.
For all the peace and love theme of the event it does cast a dark Jungian shadow. I did feel the subtext of conflict and aggression. It seems a rift is brewing between the city, careful of a park in it gentrified Short North jewel, the promoters, the acts, and the attendees. They had to tape off the area in front of the main stage due to the rains and the damage thereof. With a strangely place sound box blocking most peoples view of the stage many jumped the tape. You could feel the tension about that. The feeling I get is that Comfest at Goodale is not long for the world. I can see it being moved to the Ohio State Fairgrounds, or another less urban and less cool place in the future. That would be a shame.
In a positive view maybe Comfest does influence people. My last stop was to view a poetry reading from a African inspired poetry troupe. With drums and swinging dancers the performance was divine and missed by almost everyone else, as only about 20 watched it. In front was a young girl who had more fun there than most of us do all year. Topless, and with out any self-consciousness she dove in the mud, hug, danced and took the free-spired nature of the event to its full level. It made me think, seeing her suck the marrow out of life in a manner I seldom had in the last few decades, how up-tight this society is. Too up-tight and anxious and bland beyond belief. I think I'll try to be more easy going and let loose a little more. Life is too short the to spend it as a square.
