Duluth, Dogs & Drag Queens

“Excuse me,” a tall, voluptuous woman with bleached blonde dreadlocks beckoned the uniformed man over with her elaborately manicured finger.

Her voice was playful and husky and I noticed an Adam’s apple. She held up the slip of paper in her hand.

“It says my boarding group is ‘basic.’ I ain’t basic.”

“No no no,” the Delta employee laughed. “Don’t worry, ma’am. You’re not basic.”

They joked around for a few minutes while I thanked my lucky stars that I’d managed to score a window seat, where I planned to use my winter jacket as a pillow.

I knew I’d need to stockpile Zzz’s before five days of Duluth’s Homegrown Festival. A friend* I’d met during my Master’s degree residency had invited me to get out of Jersey and attend the festival, and I suspected she wasn’t on my same post-leaving-Corporate-America schedule.

*f&%@#$-amazing-and-deserves-her-own-post friend

In between seeing fantastic local musicians, we subjected her three-legged, one-eyed dog to all kinds of unbidden “fun”…

…saw the sights…

…ate so much plant-based foodie goodness…

…and of course, went on oodles of hikes.

The best part of the Duluth Homegrown Festival -a 20 year-strong, nonprofit tradition that features local musicians performing all over town for an entire week- was the close-knit community vibe. For eight straight days, like-minded music lovers united to support their fellow Duluthians, shouting, “Happy Homegrown!” and sharing smiles at every turn.

Besides the bargain booze, highlights included:

And now I’m back in New Jersey.

Sort of.

I may have just signed a year-long lease on an apartment in a city 3,000 miles away that I’ve never been to.

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