A Break From the Chaos
On Saturday, Mikey and I decided to escape the stress and chaos of moving prep and treat ourselves to a little hometown fun: the Bristol Mum Festival. But before I dive into the day’s festivities, let me clear something up.
Here in the Northeast, a “mum” is a squat, shrubby little plant with bursts of colorful flowers—reds, oranges, yellows, whites, and more. They bloom right in time for fall and are basically nature’s way of saying, “Pumpkin spice season is officially here.” I’ve grown to love them while living up here.
The mums I grew up with in Texas? A whole different story. Down there, a mum is a giant white flower corsage that high school girls wear for homecoming. And when I say “giant,” I mean it could practically cover your torso. But why stop at one? Back in the day, two or three was the real flex. And these weren’t just flowers—they came with ribbons, bows, cowbells, and sometimes a school mascot charm dangling from them. It was basically a floral piñata strapped to your chest. Huge business for florists every fall.
Anyway, back to the festival. We met up with friends and started with the car show. Now, I don’t know a carburetor from a radiator, but I love walking around looking at old cars. Don’t ask me why—I just do. We made it through about half the show (a mere 100 cars) before moving on.
Next stop: vendor tents. Normally, Mikey and I at least poke around, but since we can’t buy much these days (we are trying to remove belongings from our possession and not add to them), we just window-shopped and kept walking.
Food, though? That we can buy. And buy we did. Festival food is a gift: hot dogs, hamburgers, fries, tater tots—basically anything you’d regret eating at home but fully embrace when handed over in a paper tray. The beauty is it’s gone in minutes. No need to donate, pack, or resell.
On the way out, we circled back through the rest of the car show, which ranged from early 1900s beauties to—wait for it—2021 models. I mean, does anyone really need to “show off” a 2021 Toyota? Still, we found a few favorites, and of course, the cars we weren’t impressed with will probably win all the awards.
But here’s the kicker: for something called the Mum Festival, there were shockingly few mums. A few tucked around vendor tents, a few parked next to cars—but no massive floral displays, no creative designs, no giant mum sculptures spelling out “Welcome Fall!” Honestly, it felt like mums were the forgotten guests of their own party.
After we were done, we headed over to New Cambridge Project for a few beers and conversation.
In the end, though, it wasn’t about the number of mums. It was about being with friends who’ve become like family—laughing, wandering, and eating our weight in fair food. And really, that’s better than a thousand mums.
