I admit it – I went to the fair. I wasn’t going to seeing as my idea of an exciting fair ride is the carousel and since I had already thrown out my deep-fried cheesecake coupon. But Sarah and Dusty were taking Cheyenne and I thought at the very least I could live vicariously through the thrill-seekers who rode the rides and ate the deep-fried cheesecake.

It was an interesting outing to be sure. I have not been to the fair for years and some things have definitely changed. I was shocked at how costly the carnival games were – many were three dollars a pop. Now granted they guaranteed that you would win something but it was something that you could have purchased outright for a dollar at the local Dollar Store.

Of course, Cheyenne insisted on playing one of the games and her sister capitulated finally at the duck pond. Cheyenne didn’t win the big prize, but as promised she did win a prize. She now has what will forever be referred to as the $3 duck. This will be added to her stuffed animal collection that grows annually but is played with rarely. I do believe our household may possibly be one of the top ten stuffed animal contributors to Dakota Boy’s Ranch.

I personally was not all that impressed with the fair rides or games, but I did really enjoy the 4-H display area and some of the critters (although I must say that I felt that some of their cages/pens were far too small, and when you added all the people trying to pet them I thought it was probably tremendously stressful – for the critters, not the people). When I mentioned this to Cheyenne she said with that look of exasperation she has become so adept at displaying when I speak, “Mom, get over it – it’s a fair.”

As I tagged along with the real fair-goers in the family, I found my mind wandering to other things. I wonder about a lot of things in life that I think other people are too busy to be bothered with. I like to think that it is my way of being thoughtful about the things that go on around me, but my children have other names for it like “weird”, “odd”, and “strange” – hmmm…are those brats still in my will?

I wondered while at the fair about what the life of a carnie is like…different towns every couple of weeks, fair food 24/7 (is that a bad thing?), working with all kinds of interesting folks, working out in the sun all day…hmmm…I could maybe take that for about a month…okay, maybe a week…or perhaps four hours.

I wondered about what those folks who went on those rides that spin you around and upside down at high velocity had to eat prior to the ride. I wondered how many times folks threw up out that caged door and decorated some other rider with the remnants of their foot-long corndog. I wondered if that would have a chain effect on other riders and whether fair workers would make any effort to clean it up or just keep moving. I wondered if that would have even a remote deterrent effect on would-be riders…somehow I doubt it.

I wondered about the tattoo phenomenon that seems to have permeated society over the past twenty years. When I was a kid, most people who had tattoos fit into one of these categories: rock star, military personnel, prisoner or gang member; tattoos were not the norm for the average citizen and it was rare to see a woman with a tattoo. Well, I was a kid decades ago. Today everyone seems to have a tattoo or a few tattoos (rock star or not).

Not me…if I had a tattoo for every love interest or fad I have thought to be the cat’s meow over the years I would have to eat a lot of deep-fried cheesecake to increase my tattoo-able body mass. No, I cannot commit to anything quite that long except for my children and they have not made any requests for me to have their names tattooed anywhere on my body.

But my goodness was there ever a lot of tattoos displayed at the fair. It was like a tattoo art exhibit – small ones, big ones, animals, people, phrases – you name it – on all ages and sizes of folks in all kinds of interesting places. There were so many fascinating tattoos at the fair that I toyed with the idea of getting a temporary tattoo while there. I dismissed the idea when I realized there was no David Cassidy tattoo (how could that be?).

Finally, I wondered whether anyone else at the fair was walking around looking at the humor of it all. Take for instance the sign above. This was on the fun house that Sarah and Cheyenne went in. It wasn’t until they were already inside that I realized that they were not old enough to go down the slide without a parent (they were, after all, under 42). Now, I know they meant to say 4’ 2” and that I was probably the only one that found it silly enough to warrant memorializing, but I did (and still do) find it endlessly amusing.

I know others went to the fair for the rides and the food, but I went to live vicariously through others and found along the way that the fair had things to offer me that were not even advertised. I do think I will have to call the fair manager and make some suggestions for improvements next year – like David Cassidy tattoos and more rides that require those under 42 to ride with parents. It’s the attention to detail that makes the fair a great experience.

Day nineteen of the new forty – obla di obla da

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