Dear Organizers of the Georgia State Banana Pudding Festival:
As soon as I found out about this festival and realized it coincided with the day my son Dominic and I planned to drive from Atlanta to Savannah, I knew it was on the agenda.

I’ve been to many festivals and fairs. I have expectations. I can manage those expectations depending on the scope of the venture. Claxton Rattlesnake Roundup? It’s an annual, small-town, lookie-loo event. No expectations. McMinnville UFO Festival? Bigger event with a parade and a weekend of planned speakers. Higher expectations.
The banana pudding festival appears to be an annual state event with enough social media presence to get on the radar of someone in Oregon.
I had expectations.
I did not expect to wait 20 minutes on a two-lane road to be directed into a field to park — one of three, all off this same two-lane road.
I did not expect to wait another 30 minutes in line to pay a $10 entry fee. (Who charges an entry fee at a festival like this?!)
I did not expect to wait another hour in line to pay $10 to sample banana pudding along the “Puddin’ Path.”



What — and I mean this sincerely — the fuck?!
One hour and $10 to sample eight versions of banana pudding, two of which were inedible? [One was “sourdough” (What? No. Stop.), and one was pecan praline (so sweet that I immediately contracted diabetes).]
And that’s it. Those eight samples equaled the only banana pudding available at the Georgia State Banana Pudding Festival.
You are deeply unserious festival planners. Clearly.
So what did our entry fee get us?






Not pictured: the 30-minute line for two porta-potties. Yes: TWO.
Also not pictured: The person running for Secretary of State who talked to us about his immigration stance, assuming we had the same political beliefs. Sir, I’m not your target audience, for a variety of reasons.
You know what WAS worth it: Spending this time with Dominic grousing about how lame your festival was. We are two of a kind and ended up having a great time.
So thanks. I guess.
Beth
