So, I found myself in Logan, Ohio, one summer. Just decided to get away from the usual grind, you know? Heard whispers about something called “Inman” – not a person, but some kind of local summer thing. Nobody could really give me a straight answer on what it was, which, looking back, should’ve been my first clue.
I figured, why not? I’m here, might as well see what the local fuss, or lack thereof, is about. I like to think I’m pretty good at finding the real stuff, not just the tourist traps. So, I started asking around, trying to pin down details about this “Inman” gathering.
Trying to Figure Out “Inman”
Let me tell you, getting information was like pulling teeth. One person said it was by the old mill, another said “oh, they moved it to the park this year, I think.” Dates were fuzzy. Times were even fuzzier. It wasn’t exactly a well-oiled machine, this “Inman” business. More like a rumor that occasionally solidified into an actual event. I eventually got a semi-reliable tip that it was happening on a particular Saturday, “sometime after lunch,” down by Hocking River, or near it anyway.
When I finally found the spot, it was… well, it was something. A collection of folks, some blankets spread out, a couple of those pop-up canopy things. Kids were tearing around, dogs were sniffing everything. It wasn’t polished, that’s for sure. No signs, no official anything. Just people.
- The food was all potluck. Some amazing homemade pies, and then some, uh, questionable casseroles. You take your chances, right?
- “Entertainment” was a guy with a guitar who knew about three chords, and an older lady who tried to get some local history storytelling going, but kept getting interrupted by a rogue frisbee.
- The vibe was… clannish, almost. Not unfriendly, but you could tell everyone knew everyone, and I was clearly the outsider.
And this is where things took a turn, or rather, where my own past experiences really colored how I saw it. I tried to offer a hand, you know, help out. Saw some folks struggling with a wobbly table. I went over, asked if they needed help. They looked at me like I had three heads. Not in a mean way, just… surprised. Turns out, that wobbly table was a feature, not a bug. It had been like that for years, part of the “Inman charm,” I guess.
It reminded me of this one time, years ago, I was in this little town in Vermont. I’d read all about their “authentic fall festival.” Sounded amazing. I got there, and it was pure commercialism. Everything was fifty bucks, perfectly curated, a Disney version of a small town. They even had actors pretending to be “local farmers.” I felt so cheated. I was looking for something real and all I got was a theme park ride. I remember thinking, “Is this it? Is everything just a show now?” It soured me on “authentic experiences” for a good long while.
That Vermont disaster, it stuck with me. Made me super wary of anything that called itself “charming” or “local tradition.” I spent a lot of time after that just avoiding those kinds of things, figured it was all a waste of time, just designed to fleece you or disappoint you. So when I was standing there in Logan, Ohio, watching this slightly chaotic, totally unscripted “Inman” unfold, with its wobbly tables and off-key guitar, I had to laugh a little at myself.
This “Inman” thing, it wasn’t trying to impress anyone. It was messy, sure. A bit disorganized? Absolutely. You couldn’t sell tickets to it even if you wanted to. But it was theirs. It wasn’t packaged for tourists like me. It was just… happening. And the folks there, they weren’t putting on a show. They were just living their Saturday.
What I Actually Got From It
So, yeah, “Summer Inman Logan Ohio.” It wasn’t what I expected, mainly because I didn’t know what to expect. And maybe that was the best part. It wasn’t some grand, life-changing event. But it was genuine. More genuine than that Vermont shindig by a country mile.
It kind of reset my compass a bit, you know? Made me realize that sometimes the real stuff isn’t polished or perfect. Sometimes it’s a bit rough, a bit confusing, and definitely has wobbly tables. And that’s okay. Actually, it’s more than okay. It’s just life. And after that whole Vermont fiasco, finding something so stubbornly unpretentious in Logan, Ohio, well, that was pretty good.
