The sky was darkening, and little droplets were beginning to fall when my significant other and I reluctantly left the county fair tonight.
We left smiling.
In a grim world where most indicators only point to more grimness – the economy, man’s inhumanity to man, the whole nine yards – you need to get your mind off the bad news somehow. That’s why the entertainment industry seems to flourish during economic depressions.
The county fair was a trip back in time. I got to congratulate our local head librarian on the blue ribbon she won for her prize plant. Paused to chat with a Backwoods Home reader who was steering folks toward the 4-H exhibits. Watched the young future farmers of America glowing with pride as they led their heifers into the center of the arena. Listened to the laughter of children on the Ferris Wheel and the other rides that would probably give me vertigo at my age. Vicariously shared the sinful, always self-apologetic indulgence in funnel cake, which seems to be fried dough buried under a snowstorm of powdered sugar. And cheered with the little kids at the Pig Races.
There was even something from my world there: a shooting gallery sponsored by the local 4-H Club. Shooters had a choice of archery or air riflery. We couldn’t resist the latter, which consisted of Crosman pellet rifles hooked up to a humongous CO2 tank, with small targets that appeared to be at the regulation air rifle distance of 33 feet, the International standard of ten meters, from the shooter. Even got to watch the significant other set the benchmark for the top score of the night.
Yeah, it was raining when we left, and soon the thunderstorm was in full cry…but it wasn’t enough to dampen our spirits from that short, welcome trip back to a tradition that has preserved heartland American values.
Mas,
Thanks for the “good news” so to speak.
County Fairs, Rodeos and what not do take one’s mind off the day to day troubles in this country and in one’s life. I think it’s because it takes us back to a moment in time, for some of us, when life was a lot less complicated and trusting and helping your neighbor was the standard of the day.
Biker
I love seeing a gazillion varieties of rabbit, all sizes, shapes, coats…the barnyard sounds, particularly roosters trying to out-crow each other. I’ve worked with juvenile offenders for over 20 years, and it’s nice to see kids go GOOD sometimes.
And yes, funnel cake. Oy.
Last year I scoured the internet finding every city festival for 30 miles around my metro area, caught live music, food, wine, etc. and didn’t regret a moment.
Mas,
Great post, it reminds me of why I love living in “middle” America. County Fairs and such events make it worth saving the change all year long.
However, as much as I like Funnel Cake, it just doesn’t compare to the Indian Fry bread we get here in the Southwest. Hot out of the oil, with honey and powdererd sugar too.
I had a similar experience last night – I drove over the border and paid my first visit to the Cabela’s in Hammond, Indiana. The place is amazing! My pleasure there was not just a result of getting to window shop all the outdoor equipment, boats, tents, guns, and good, rugged clothing – it was the people, both the employees and the patrons. Everybody was SO polite and helpful.
“Gun people” in general are the most polite and courteous people on the planet. As I perused the ammo aisle, several people (other customers) asked me what I was looking for (.30-30 125gr. hp for my “Chicago-approved” Model 94) – and one of them even started checking the next aisle over for me! How often does that happen to you at say, a grocery store?
Try to look for, notice, and enjoy the good in life. It’s still out there.
Best wishes,
.45StayAlive
Losin’ the rifle skills to your much younger wife, are ya?
(smile)
Love the fairs, too! Thanks for the verbal sunshine!
Attending a big, midwestern fair is on the bucket list along with shooting a Barrett 50, riding my horse through the McDonalds drive through and taking a 1 year cross country trip.
I’m firmly believe that the country is only mildly screwed up, and that the underlying foundation is strong as steel. This story only emphasizes that point.
Stay safe, Mas.
.45StayAlive, I live right by it. Great place. And none of that “I need to see your gun card” for you Ill. types. A few more exits down 94 and you can try Bass Pro. (OK, maybe 15 miles.) Guns, gear and a much nicer restaurant.
On the other hand, Indiana permit holders (I think we’re up to 7%) shy away from Illinois-Hoosier plates alone seem to provide court-upheld PC to check your car. Between that and the Chicago feel of everyone always having their guard up…
Hey Dan,
Thanks for the info – I’ll have to check out Bass Pro next time I come through. I don’t have Illinois Plates or ID, so I don’t have to provide a FOID card – actually, other than ammunition, I don’t think I can buy firearms in Indiana, since I’m not officially a resident of any of the “border States” to Indiana. My car plates and my drivers license and CCW are from another State.
That’s pretty horrible that the folks with Indiana plates get picked on by the ILLinois police. I hope someday they’ll finally get CCW passed here in Illinois and then we can join the rest of the country (along with Wisconsin).
best wishes,
.45StayAlive