Vacations Blog

(photo – Wm Crovo)

The first weekend in May was the 2009 Annual Clayton Art & Wine festival; the 14^thyear for this local crowd-pleaser.

As is typical with these events, the weather is great in the days preceding, but on the scheduled weekend, in roll the rain clouds.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s Art and Rain. I don’t like my art soggy. Wine and rain I can handle, however this time around I opted for the Beer and Art. Which brings up a question; why is it that we never see “Beer and Art” festivals?  Beer drinkers can appreciate art as much as those sommelier types. Well I could I suppose, if I knew what actually constitutes “art.”

Every festival involving “art” puts me into a state of confusion. I’ve discovered that, try as I might, I just don’t understand art. Be it a nude woman fashioned from wrought iron, or a life-size likeness of Paris Hilton made of rabbit droppings, what is it that that constitutes something as “art”? Why is it that some things are considered “works of art” while others are works of crap? 

I’ll tell you the difference; if someone is willing to pay for it, it can be called art. If no one is willing to pay for it, it’s crap.

But of course that’s why booze is always served at these festivals. Promoters know that after John and Jane Public down a couple of pints, or a carafe of some local hooch, that wine rack made of papier-mâchéd toilet paper rolls is suddenly going to look a whole lot more appealing.

My but I’ve digressed.

So the rain had pretty much subsided by Sunday, so the boy and I took a couple of hours late in the afternoon to check things out. Ten dollars granted me a commemorative pint glass and one (1) beer ticket. Wow. Fortunately, being a local, I “know” people, and more importantly they know me. And by “know” I mean that they gave me free beer.

I’m not much of a shopper but I love walking around these types of festivals. They’re a great place to people watch, take the dog for a walk, and frankly just get a little fresh air and exercise. Free beer doesn’t hurt either. There are plenty of food vendors offering everything from chicken teriyaki to bratwurst and burgers. The boy opted for the fried calamari. He’s got class. If you’ve got young ones there’s a very over-priced kiddie area, with a rock-climbing wall, a few bounce structures and some games. You’re better off taking them over to The Grove Park and letting them play for free.

Incorporated in 1964, Clayton is “nestled at the bucolic base of picturesque Mt. Diablo.” A community of just over 10,000 residents, Clayton has retained its small town charm while managing to become something of a destination city. Its old-West downtown boasts many great little eateries, including Skipolini’s Pizza, a local favorite since 1974 and the workplace of a certain blogger circa 1982. There’s also Ed’s Mudville Grill, a sports bar serving great pub grub, Ed’s more upscale steak joint Moresi’s Chophouse and a nice little Italian restaurant, La Viranda Café.  You’ll also find the Cup O’ Jo coffee house, and of course the famous/ infamous, Clayton Club.

(Photo – Pete Laurence)

The only thing missing from Clayton is a nice Bed & Breakfast. Seems it would go nicely with the small town’s “bucolic” atmosphere. But then I’ve never been much of a fan of the B&B, preferring to enjoy my B&B in private. At most B&B’s there’s always some chatterbox who wants to tell you their life story over coffee and a scone.

Sorry, I’ve digressed again. But a B&B really would be a nice touch and something Clayton should seriously consider.  If you do happen to attend this event and need a place to crash, there’s always the Holiday Inn Express just up the road. Or you can have my couch. I’ll  even make you breakfast and tell you my life story.                           (photo – Clayton Historical Society)

In any event, at next year’s Art & Wine festival  I’m planning  to display my “Rocks Reclining with Pigment and Adhesive” sculptures. And, as much as they may appear to just be rocks glued together and spray painted, once some drunken art lover hands me some scrilla, they will magically transform into “works of art;” may you be that art lover.