The dally in the alley

I spent an interesting Saturday night wandering around a local event known as the Dally in the Alley. It started years ago as, well, a dally in an alley, a big party where people sold things and communists and anarchists met to discuss how to change the world. Now it blocks off two streets and seems to concentrate more on selling baubles and trinkets and playing load, annoying music. I’m sure the reds and the anarchists were still there somewhere; the one value the music had was that it drowned them out.

Rarely have I seen such an eclectic mix of folks. Mostly it was weirdos from years ago and drunk college students simply out to party. More than once I wanted to tell one of the oddballs: ‘Hey, the sixties called; they want their tie-dye back.’ All were harmless enough though, despite the occasional sneer I got when passersby noticed I was wearing an Army T-shirt and a Military Police cap. Yes, I wore them to provoke, I’ll admit. Yet other than the sneers, nothing. It’s just as well. Aging hippies and drink addled sophomores wouldn’t be particularly challenging adversaries. It would have been fun, though, to have one little altercation. Just like cow tipping. “Hey, Fascist, what’s with the Army stuff?’ Then you just push them over and they flail and moo on the ground.

They had good beer, which was really all I went for. I had a nice bohemian ale from a local microbrewery which went down well. The guy manning the taps was one of those sneering at my attire, but he took the four bucks for the beer from me quickly enough. In fact, as he sneered, I asked for the brew, and his entire demeanor changed. He promptly poured it, and thanked me with a broad smile for the purchase.

I had made a point after all. Say all you want about the USA, but one hypocritical thing rang clear in that den of leftist iniquity: Capitalism rules! We are all capitalists at heart.