There is nothing quite like Panorama Days to remind us that humanity is chaotic, charming and deeply committed to eating fried food outdoors.
On paper, Panorama Days sounds quite wholesome — live music, a lengthy parade, smiling families. In reality, it is a delightful mash-up of sunburns, long lines and numerous renditions of 1980s power ballads. And yet, we keep coming back.
Maybe it is because Panorama Days turns our comfortably ordinary place into something magical. Suddenly, our city is packed with classic cars, our lake is full of courageous water skiers, and our stomachs churn from too much ice cream. Streets close, tents pop up and everyone seemingly agrees that standing in line for 10 minutes for an almost cold beer is quite reasonable.
The real entertainment, though, are the people. Panorama Days is one of the few times when strangers will strike up conversations with others for no reason at all. You could be minding your business, ready to bite into a hamburger, and suddenly someone is telling you where to find “the best cheese curds on this side of the Mississippi.”
Somehow, though, it is not just about the food. It is about the stories behind it. Every booth or food truck has someone proudly explaining their recipe, their craft, or why their salsa is “award-winning.” You nod, you sample, you pretend you understand the subtle flavor notes. It’s a cultural exchange with napkins.
Music adds another layer. Local bands take the stage and give it everything they have got. And there is something refreshing about a performance where the lead singer might also be your dentist.
Of course, no festival is complete without at least one mildly chaotic moment. Maybe it is a sudden rain shower that sends everyone scrambling under tents. Maybe it is a child covered head to toe in cotton candy. Maybe it is you, realizing you have been walking around for an hour with powdered sugar on your face. These are the moments that turn a nice afternoon into a story you will tell later.
In the end, Panorama Days may be a bit messy, kind of loud and a little crazy, but that’s exactly why it matters. It pulls people out of their routines and into a shared space, where the goal isn’t productivity or efficiency, but simply being there, celebrating our community and each other.
You may leave feeling slightly tired, possibly sticky and definitely overfed, but you also leave with a feeling that, at least for a few hours, you were part of something fun, spontaneous and genuinely human. And, of course, you will be back next year for more.
Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Lake Panorama Times
641-332-2707
shane@gctimesnews.com