The end of summer, last of the street festivals

It was a sausage fest

 "It was basically a sausage fest," my brother, Nicholas later said.  And that was true.  It was one of the better days I have had in a long time.  I always do enjoy when all of us men get together, for my brothers are at least starting to look like men, and somehow we often manage an adventure out of each afternoon.  Gene, my father, was given a rude awakening when the police asked him to toss his open container.  "Aahh, the old days are gone," he said, or something to that effect.  I use to remember walking around the prospect park area with him, beer in paper bag. I think he enjoyed a cold one out in the park.

The Parade

These pictures are from a few weeks ago, but hey, sometimes I get to them right away, and sometimes I don't.

In the San Genarro Festival, you can see that many things change, while others stay the same.  Little Italy is not what it use to be.  I live in an apartment that was at one time an Italian neighborhood.  This tenement building, well south of Canal, has long been a predominantly Chinese neighborhood.  At San Genarro they did extend the festival from Canal to just short of Houston on Mulberry, but normally Little Italy is much more compact in its reach.  It was a great day, walking from the dumpling festival, through the Lower East Side, and then back again to Mulberry.  The warmth felt like an extension of summer.  There is no better way to end the season of the street fairs by having Zeppolis, Sausage, Dumplings, Belgian fries, Empanadas, and sliders in your stomach all at once, and a long walk to burn the food off!

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