Well, we went to Santa Cruz. It is kind of a nice town,and the drive there takes you through a bunch of coastal towns on route 1. They are all spread out and there is a lot of farm land still open, with huge crashing waves on the right, as you go south. There were tons of surfers out today, and the weather was quite warm, which only made me feel bad because in New York it was 7 degrees.

But we went down to see the fungus fair, which is a mushroom festival. This was not so much because I love mushrooms, as I was curious to see what a fungus fair would be like. It was like this: a bunch of booths selling mushroom based food, everything from cookies to lasagna. Then there were lectures, cooking demonstrations, baskets of mushrooms, and books and literature. The most striking thing about all of it was that it was mobbed. There were at least 500 people there, and not just bearded nuts either. A lot of young people, college age at least, and a lot of interest in the discussions.

There were also a few nuts, including one guy dressed as a mushroom with a bong and catepillar on his cap, which I think is a reference to Alice in Wonderland. But the lectures had open contempt for people who look for psychedelics in mushrooms.

We all passed around some deadly mushrooms, which made me think I might have been better off if I had washed my hands before eating the burrito I ate shortly afterward.

My honey liked Santa Cruz a lot. It has a little charm I suppose, but it is sort of a ratty surf town. Kind of like Cape May, with little saltbox houses. I was initally turned off to the place when a lady almost ran me over in her pick up, who turned out to be the lady giving the cooking demonstration. She was no great shakes. She had many tatoos on her forearms, and her sous chef was completely colored in with tatoo ink except for two white bands near his elbow and his hands. Plus he had those stretched out earlobes that kids today like, from big hoops that you put in and stretch out the skin with.

There were some kids next to me, little kids, who smelled, and who had bark stuck in the slits in their ears. But for the most part it was a pretty staid looking crowd. A lot of people called out stuff in latin, like someone would mention a particualr mushroom and there would be a cry of correction for genus or order from the crowd. But I suppose they were bound to be really into mushrooms if they came here.

I did learn that it doesn't matter if you cut a mushroom or if you pull it out. Either way is ok.