OB/DIS

OB/DIS
Saturday afternoon, Erik and I headed to San Diego's Ocean Beach, affectionately known as "OB" to locals, for the annual street fair and chilli cook-off. OB is a lovely little town, slightly plagued by dirty hippies with a penchant for pot. It has our only organic co-op store, several vegan restaurants, and a vegan bakery. It was also home of Java Joes, jumping board for people like Jewel and Jason Mraz. Some locals wear t-shirts with the town logo, a seagull, pooping in a Starbucks cup.

We had high hopes for the street fair. This is OB! Surely they'll have vegan or vegetarian foodstuffs for sale! Surely there'll be plenty of activist booths! Surely it'll be all granola and simple good happy fun!

No such luck. The sand-sprinkled, antique store-lined Newport Ave was home to your standard carnie food and fare. Polish sausages! That freaky drizzled donut-y fried pastry stuff! Frozen lemonade! Faux bohemian little tank tops that tie in the back! Carnies everywhere! Beer gardens! Generic reggae cover bands! A boxing ring!

Yes. A boxing ring. We had to squeeze through the transfixed crowds as half-naked men made each other bleed for jest. Finally, we made our way to Eatopia, a tiny vegan restaurant, and found solace in our thai peanut and soy "chicken" "parmesan" wraps. Oooh, and our strawberries and "cream" smoothie. "Mmm."

I guess I had expected a little more from OB. But my inner dirty hippie loves it so much I'm going to let the boxing and the carnies and the meat-on-sticks slide.