Today's Top Tip

How to get out of jury duty:
Either:
Respond to as many questions as possible with "That's what she said."
or
Leave the country.

The second may be a little drastic.

I will, of course, expect a full report on the results, should anyone attempt solution 1.

Anyway, last night I worked in the Thuderfrog - our little RV/Camper based food selling vehicle at the rock festival. I was selling Potato Curry and Nan. Banged my head on the overhang twice. Here are some observations I found interesting. Due to brain damage, they may not be interesting to anyone else:

I did not expect a kind of Berkley eco-rock hipster-hippie rock festival to include so many parents with children. I wonder how many people are aware of the fact that the hipsters seem to be breeding.

They didn't seem like bad parents - just interestingly hypocritical ones. The same parents that, at 5:00PM were trying to make sure their children didn't eat anything as non-vegan as yogurt, or as processed as white flour, were back by 7:30, hunting for any booth selling hot chocolate and/or cake.

That is certainly a representation of the exaggerated minority, though. Most of them were just parents as I always seem to see parents - people with small, controlling appendages attached to one or two arms, with a look in their eyes that says either:

Dear heavenly powers and angels protecting us, if I do not get this child something sweet, I will not hear the end of it, I will go insane, and throw a brick of cocaine on the bonfire.

Or:

Dear heavenly powers and angels of whatevertheheckyoube, I need something sweet, but I can't admit it. Luckily I have a kid, and can get myself some chocolate, while it just seems like I'm being a good Dad. That's what good Dads do, right? Give their kids Chocolate? Oh, who cares. Chocolate... chocolate...

I'm not sure which it is yet. I'll let you know if I figure it out.

Tonight, I have security detail, wandering around dealing with parents who have briefly misplaced their cocoa-smeared appendages. I'll report back tomorrow.

Dear heavens and angelicky powers, I hope this doesn't become a Bill-Brysonesque cynical expose.