The 50th Annual Festival Of The Chariots!

Yesterday was a beautiful day for a Hare Krishna parade, that's for sure. The 50th Annual Festival Of The Chariots brightened up Venice in their yearly celebration that brings music and color to all of Venice, regardless of religious affiliation.

You'll most likely never see most Venetians with shaved heads and saffron robes chanting "Hare, Hare, Krishna!", but that doesn't stop anyone from dancing and parading along with the monks of the order. I've been out of town for the last few festivals, so it was a delight to attend again yesterday for their milestone jubilee anniversary celebration.

My favorite part every time is when the unsuspecting tourists see this spectacle come upon them. Everything stops as the enormous, marigold-bedecked floats pass by, pulled along by Hare Krishna devotees. Everyone chants and sings and bangs drums and blow horns and the whole thing is just a visual and aural kaleidoscope of positive energy. You can see the wonder and surprise on all of the visitors' faces as the parade envelops them in a massive group hug. It's special, even if you've seen it all 50 times.

I saw a bunch of old friends, kids waving from atop their Dad's shoulders, tourists on tip-toe aiming for the best angle to capture this - to them - once in a lifetime deal. As the procession went along, it picked up more and more revelers, as passersby and the general Boardwalk crowd would join in and walk and clap alongside their fellow fun havers.

The only drag in the whole day - as it is every year - is the group of protesters that hold up their hellfire signs and yell through bullhorns about how we'll all burn in hell. Um. Yeah. Here's a whole group of happy people dancing and singing together in the sunshine, holding workshops about enlightenment, offering a free vegan feast to all who wish to partake, with everyone calling each other "Brother" and "Sister" - and they're the ones going to Hell.

 I highly doubt it, and also highly doubt that Jesus would condone the foul behavior of the (mainly middle-aged white angry biker looking men) Bible thumping agitators. But you know what, Free Speech. And the cops are there to separate the two factions, should it get out of hand, but mostly all the Hare Krishna party just laughs at them and their signs with the black metal fonts insisting on gloom and doom. Dumb.

The hatred was easily forgotten, however, in light of the explosion of color and joy that was going on all around.

Giant crowds lined up to get plates of vegan dishes (I see they've added Hawaiian shaved ice and cheese pizza to the mix now days so parents can get their kids to partake, I assume), watch the dancers, listen to the music, get faces and hands henna painted, , look at all the gorgeous saris and costumes, shop for similar stuff from India in the pop-up Govinda's store, and/or partake in the many workshops and speaker tents filling you in on what exactly this group of people believe. It's always felt a little cult-y to me, but I can't really be mad at any religion that is spreading the love like this, and in such a fun way.

There was much to do and see, but then, there always is in Venice. I had an important bloody mary meeting at The Townhouse I had to keep, and another, even more pressing engagement on the sand and in the sea (my Sunday worship) that was crucial that I get to in a timely fashion (and then a stint at Hinano's to make it a perfect Sunday in Venice!), so I had to leave the Hare Krishnas to it, and thank them for another excellent celebration in the heart of Venice.


Here's to 50 more!

A Colorful Weekend In Venice

I don't know how the weather sometimes seems to know it's the weekend and after a week of bright sunshine while cooped up inside working, the weekend came and was all gloom, not August feeling at all. But where the sun did not shine through, and though the melanin levels suffered from no beach time, there was still plenty of color.

Saturday night we were invited to hear the Blue Oyster Cult play in the Marina from some friends' boats pulled up right next to the stage. They had drinks, a grill with tasty whole fish and hot dogs, and quite possibly the most spectacular sunset of the summer so far. The electric colors competed with the rock for everyone's attention, and the sky won until the sun fully set.

It was also a delight to see that there is a gondola available for rides around the Marina, adding to the Venice atmosphere that we appropriated from our sister city in Italy. It was utterly charming, and the passengers were treated to an gorgeous evening of epic proportions. Soon after the sun set, the (badly, badly needed) rain began to fall, and we enjoyed the rest of the night below deck, listening to the rain beat on the rood as we gently rocked and loved every minute of it. Thanks, Commodore Farrell!

Though Sunday rose as another gloomy day (August Foggest), Venice doesn't let that dampen the spirits at all. It was the annual Festival Of The Chariots and the Hare Krishna colors were flying high. Everyone looks forward to this day each year as the parade comes down the Boardwalk and invites all it passes by to join in the dancing, sharing and fun, regardless of religious affiliation. Like it should be.

Stephanie captured a little of the action, so you can kind of feel what it's like as the saffron colored flowers are tossed out to the crowd by the people in saffron colored robes aboard the chariots.

In spite of the grey skies, the weekend was FULL of color, and the kind of days that carry on with the fun, no matter what the weather does. Yeah, we weren't able to do the usual weekend solid beach days, but were instead rewarded with perfect afternoon Bloody Marys by George at The Townhouse, occasional glimpses of blue sky, rain drops on our upturned and grateful faces, and a finale of a delicious meal at the good old Galley.

Weekends are just great in Venice ... no matter what. Hope yours was exceptional too. And extra colorful!

Festival Of The Chariots = Technicolor Dreams

Waking up on the first Sunday in August to actual sunshine already felt like a dream ... but when you yawn, stretch, shower, coffee, and bike down to the Fig Tree for our annual Festival Of The Chariots brunch ... the dream bursts into full Oz-like color.

When the Hare Krishna bunch puts on the Festival each year to celebrate their whole deal - I'm actually still not exactly sure what the whole deal is, but they all look extra happy -the Boardwalk in Venice bursts into bloom, like a rare flower that only blooms out once a year. Our favorite part really is watching the faces of the oblivious tourists that have no idea what is about to overtake their walk along, scanning the wares, and the spectacle they think they're supposed to be seeing while here.


The enormous, brightly painted and adorned Chariots draw into sight, led by, first, the "JESUS SAVES" People, carrying their various protest (?One Love?) signs ahead of the parade, and then, the vibrantly dressed pilgrims of the Hindu faith that dance and chant alongside the crazy-colorful floats/Chariots, with their elaborate balloons trailing behind (Sacred Cow balloons! That better not be found washed up on the shore, Krishnas!). They hand out little gift bags with religious tracts, sun face stickers, and Dum Dum suckers, for some reason, but you always feel coolest if you get a flower tossed to you. Even if the innocent bystander has no idea of what is coming up along behind them, their quizzical stares almost every time turn into delighted smiles, often coupled with claps along, and nowadays, the camera phone outstretched by an arm to catch themselves with all the action.


We like our front row seats at The Fig Tree, to view it all from the safety of not being run over by an enormous golden wheel. While sitting there, wearing my Sponto Orange dress, I had the distinct feeling of someone's arm encircling my waist as it all passed by. I turned to see who new had arrived, only to find - absolutely no one standing there. I'm not kidding. We always had our pal, Sponto, there with us at these brunches, and have really missed him at this and other occasions ... but maybe he WAS there, hmmmm? It was just weird.



Also weird was when I found out that the little old Lord Krishna dude (that never seems to age year after year of these parades), complete with an umbrella holder, was really a statue. aHA! Trippy. It's a trippy kind of day, really, but all the color (more extravagant this year even, as it was all lit up by the increasingly rare sunshine we so love at the beach) just seems to brighten up everyone's moods automatically. Even the people protesting in the name of their faith - again, such a strange reaction to fun and good deeds - didn't seem as militant as in previous years. We can talk about my religion theories some other time, but I'm all for people getting up and out on a Sunday morning to rejoice in a beautiful day with strangers.


They do more than that, too. The Festival of the Chariots Sunday is always a big carnival-type event too, off Windward Circle.


You can hear music, watch great dancers, learn about Reincarnation, Ask Questions and Get Answers (finally, Los Angeles!), but the best part, especially to the many who really do need it, judging from the long, long line - is the Free Feast.


The spirit of giving, whether that be of food, flowers (I later found a rose that I'd caught from a person on a chariot, forgotten, and still tucked neatly in my cleavage), or simply fun, is what I always take away from this special day in Venice.


I almost wish I could rewind to the time when I was the person that had no idea what was approaching. That kind of pure and lovely surprise is pretty rare, but it's kind of like the place we live ... you get enjoyment every time you share it with someone new, and feel lucky that you kind of get what's going on.


So a surfer talks to a Bible beater talks to a robed Hare Krishna person talks to a Cop talks to a street performer talks to an English tourist talks to a homeless guy talks to a fruit seller talks to me (and so on ...) on a fine Sunday in August in Venice, California. Which is exactly the way it should be, the way we try to live here, and just how I like it. I had to leave before everyone else to do a little work thing, and said, "The real world is a drag sometimes". To everyone milling around The Boardwalk last Sunday, the "Real World" meant anywhere but here.