Why on earth would I willingly spend my Sunday evening looking at art?

There's this anal—excuse me, annual—arts festival at the local community college.
We used to go each year when we lived within walking distance of the college.
But then we moved (about two miles away) and stopped going.
In fact, I think we had stopped going long before we even moved.
Because the actual art is boring and I got too old for the arts and crafts tent where seven year olds painted jars and made bracelets.

Anyway, I'm being forced to go. For nostalgia.

Ugh.

Save me.