By Thomas Thorspecken
I went to a Patriotic Concert and Ice Cream Social at the First Presbyterian Church (222 West 6th Street, Mount Dora, Florida). I talked about sketching the friend who felt that the event would likely be filled with Trump supporting MAGA fanatics.
Politics didn’t play a roll in the concert. Pastor John Lowe gave a quick benediction in which he asked that people listen with patience and get along with those whose views are not shared. Randy Frieling at the piano told a story of a man who was very unpleasant. He was so unpleasant that his donkey kicked him repeatedly and killed him. At the funeral the man’s grief stricken wife shook her head yes to each man who consoled her, and then shook her head no to each woman. When asked about this, she explained that the men were asking if she were alright, and the woman were asking if the donkey was for sale. Kasey Cox and Janelle Woodward filled out the singers.
In each chair there was a small American Flag. A giant American flag waved on the jumbo tron. The first song was the Star Spangled Banner and everyone in the room stood to sing it. Since there were American flags in every corner of the room I didn’t know where to look. This wasn’t a baseball game, so I wasn’t certain if I should place my hand over my heart. Mid way through the song, I realized my hat was still on my heard. If I snatched it off my head, I might draw attention to my mistake. I decided to ride out the remainder of the song with the hat firmly in place.
In a song titled Salute to the Armed Forces,, the pastor asked anyone who served in each branch of the service to stand when they heard their anthem. Many of the audience members might have served in WWII. First members of the army stood, then the navy and marines. I felt a nostalgic glow for those who defended our against dictators.
After the music stopped, I was still throwing watercolor washed on the sketch. By the time I finished, there was no longer a line for the ice cream. I had 2 scoops of vanilla ice cream with some strawberry sauce and whipped cream. Since I am not a member of the parish, I didn’t feel comfortable sitting at a table where people were deep in discussion. I sat at a table alone and savored the ice cream. As I was leaving several people asked to see what I had done. One woman had been to an Orlando Urban Sketching event in the past. She pointed out the boy who had been working the sound board. His mother was an artist and had a gallery in Mount Dora. I put the sketchbook in my art bag and then another woman asked to see what I had done before I got out the door. She said I had taken 30 pounds off the pianist and we laughed.