The Dance Is Here

The Sundance Film Festival that is. Hollywood takes over our cute little town for 10 days every January, and throngs of PIB's (People In Black) wreck havoc in the form of LA-worthy traffic jams, insanely bad driving by people who have no business behind the wheel when the snow is falling, making it impossible to get a reservation at any restaurant within a 20 mile radius, making a stop at the grocery store for some milk a harrowing experience and clogging up the line at my favorite coffee shop and then taking all the good seats.

Although the coffee shop line is the best place to check out the clothes. They are my absolute favorite, a sight to see. To the lady in the 5 inch stilettos and mini leather jacket, "Did you happen to notice that foot of new snow out there?". Or the chick overdoing it in the head to toe puffer jacket with the aviator fur hat, "Oh yeah, you blend." Or to the guy in the matching tasseled fur boots, hand muff and Russian trooper hat, "Really?. . . Really?" The PIB's also have an unwritten rule to never, under any circumstances, remove their sunglasses. No matter that its dark and storming and, oh yeah, we are indoors.

But my local barista did slide my usual toward me once she glimpsed me through all the weirdos and whispered, "This one's on me." I wanted to hug her, it really is the small things that can make a person's day.

And OK, I'll admit it. I have some movie tickets and am pretty excited to see some of the amazing movies that are in town. I'll be there, but I won't be wearing black, you can bet on that!