My mom had a surprise for me when she woke me up Friday morning—or afternoon, I should say. I woke up to my little baby niece squirming beside me. I opened my eyes and saw my mom lay her down on the bed next to me. I saw the baby’s tiny face glowing as she swirled her tongue around her lips and tried to open her own eyes. I must say it was one of the best ways to wake up after a long night of partying.
Waking to my niece only meant one thing—my big brother was here for the weekend from Delaware. This I was excited about. I never really get to see him, and he never really comes down during the summer. He says it’s because of work, but I say, and know, it’s because of traffic. With him traveling down on a Friday, and with it being July, I knew there was only one reason he was willing to brave the travel scene and come down to North Wildwood—The Anglesea Blues Festival.
There’s one weekend in July, one weekend out of the whole summer, where we don’t have to beg my brother to come visit, and it typically has to do with pulled pork and smoked ribs. So when I woke up Friday afternoon to his daughter next to me, and he whistling throughout the house, I knew it was his weekend.
And I was right. When I came home from work later that night to an empty house and a plastic container filled with ribs, barbequed chicken, steak fries, a baked potato, corn on the cob and baked beans, I knew my family was a few blocks down enjoying the food first-hand. And I knew it wasn’t their first trip down there that day.
“Did you enjoy your dinner last night?” my brother asked me anxiously the next morning.
I told him I did, but I couldn’t finish the copious amount of food he compiled for me on the plate. He responded by quickly dashing to the fridge to eat my leftovers. And when I asked him how he could continue to eat meat for another complete full day, he asked me, mouth full, how couldn’t he?
So Saturday afternoon I decided to head down to the North Wildwood bar district with my brother and the rest of my family to see what this blues/barbeque fest was all about.
We walked, naturally, only living a few blocks away. And it’s a good thing we did, with there being no parking spots for blocks surrounding the festival.
“Do young people actually go to this thing?” I asked jokingly as we neared the beginning of the vendors. Then I saw it all.
The biggest crowd of people surrounded the stage. I watched as people gathered around and danced to the Blues music coming from the guy playing, as they held takeout trays of ribs and plastic cups of beer. This is where we left my mom and dad—my dad is a big fan of the Blues.
I followed my brother past the stage to the strip of vendors lining the next three blocks, each one carrying a different barbequed specialty. Their awnings were huge and colorful, and their lines were long, but that’s half the fun, my brother said…waiting.
I asked him why he thought waiting in line, shoulder to shoulder with people, was fun.
He said, “I came down here for the ridiculously tasting food, the beer, the Blues. It’s an awesome environment, and it’s right by the beach. Everyone here is laid back and relaxed. The only thing on their minds is having a good time and chilling out and listening to some good music and eating some good food.”
I had to agree with him. It was an overall pleasurable experience that brought people together in a fun and tasty way. “Plus,” he added on, “these are world famous barbeque vendors. I waited all year long to taste ribs like this!”