A wrinkled, gray-haired woman slumps against the wall, clutching three copies of Foley's autobiography. The hall is reaching capacity, and even the booths selling homemade candles and dirty bumper stickers are raking it in. Two chiropractic clinics offer free chair massages , anticipating new business after the spring thaw. A biker couple tests a cedar porch swing, smiling serenely as their boots graze the Astroturf. The very smug wear matching outfits to advertise the strength of their union.
Hedonists pack the massage-chair booth , perusing the exhibitor maps and chatting on cell phones.
The perky woman in the information booth proves to be little more than decoration herself. A grandfatherly fellow grumbles about the long wait between swigs of plastic-bottled Miller Genuine Draft. A stout man with an enormous belt buckle lets his female companion in on the secret drawbacks of concrete siding. Not satisfied by her response, he approaches a company rep and loudly reiterates his opinion. Upon exiting the concrete house, many seek refreshment at the opposing water cooler displays.