Sunday, and F-Yeah fest is taking place in different places around L.A. -- lots of events in Echo Park. Shows by many bands, such as No Age and Crystal Antlers. The most intriguing of the festival events was a scavenger hunt -- like the one they held last year. This year, the hunt started at the northeast corner of Echo Park Lake. Participants were instructed in advance to form teams of 2 to 5 members, and the teams had to wear outfits. So, my daughter, my dog and I arrive to watch the call to hounds, and we find a big crowd. Lots of groups of twenty- and even thirty-somethings, mostly dressed in costume. There was a group of five guys dressed in blue capes. There was a group of three wearing lilac T-shirts; the women's shirts said "Tits" and the man's shirt read "Dick" (Chicken Corner thinks he got the short end of that particular stick). There were cowboys and cowgirls, guys dressed up in suits. Everyone milling around. Old ladies hunt around looking for cast-away bottles and cans. An ice cream vendor rings a small bell, but no one's buying. When the festival organizers call out for one member of each team to line up, there is a sudden frenzied rush. Hunt details are handed out, one by one.

The list (of things that must be procured) includes:

"Menu from Ukrainian restaurant. 3 points"

"Shave off eyebrow: 25 points. Two eyebrows per whole team limit."

"In the drive thru of a fast food restaurant kiss the person at the window on the lips -- needs photographic evidence. 25 points."

Donation items listed for Union Rescue Mission -- 3 points per donation. No limit.

"Report card with F. Ask your parents. Does not need to be yours."

"Ticket stub pre 2003 -- 6 points." (Pre-when?!)

Forty-five scavenger options total. The starting signal is given, and most of the teams tear off running. The ice cream vendor runs away, too. I was about to buy an ice cream bar for my daughter when he ran. A few of the teams are more prudent and take the time to study the list and strategize. They all have until 7 p.m. (though winners won't be announced for about two weeks).

Left behind, with my daughter, my dog and I are the elderly women who are scavenger-hunting for cans (on the ground and in garbage bins), the curbside vendors (whose goods are displayed on blankets on the ground), a cop, a guy walking a chihuahua. A couple of elderly vaquero-looking guys, probably Mexican. Now I can hear a voice over a loudspeaker in Spanish. It's a preacher over in the north-center part of the park, near the playground. My daughter wants to visit the playground, so we go there, and I see a small crowd of picnickers with their backs to the preacher. Lots of kids on the swings and play structures. The preacher has a large American flag, and he is accompanied by a man playing organ occasionally. With crisp pronunciation he blathers, whining, pleading, lamenting about Jesus Christ and the last generation. After about half an hour, he stops. No one seems to notice. My daughter, my dog and I leave, and we go toward the area where the F-Yeah scavengers had been an hour earlier. Now there's a small group of worshippers, twelve total, who are praying in Spanish front of a Virgin shrine set up on a folding table. They speak in unison, without amplification. A more-or-less private service.

At the northeast corner, where the scavenger hunt originated, there's no sign of the crowd in costume. At least none that I can detect. Twenty-five points to anyone who finds an artifact of the event at that location. (Chicken Corner points, that is. No connection to F-Yeah.)