Brother is a state fair aficionado

If I were in Minnesota this week, chances are I’d be at the Minnesota State Fair with my brother Steve.

Steve, as it turns out, is an aficionado of state fairs.

How else could you describe someone who has sampled not only Minnesota’s but Iowa’s, North Dakota’s, Indiana’s, Texas’s and British Columbia’s?

My brother is a fan of state fairs.

As for me, not so much.

My state fair memories fall into a few categories.

The earliest were a few trips to Indy with my neighborhood buddy Dan Cox and his folks, Glen and Arthelma.

They were state fair fans, going every year.

Mr. Cox knew where to find off-site parking in a neighborhood adjacent to the fairgrounds, saving a few bucks.

Then he and Mrs. Cox, who was known to more than a generation of Jay County kids as their kindergarten teacher, wandered off to check out the livestock and home economics displays.

Dan and I, meanwhile, hit the midway, which was always a quantum leap above the county fair. The rides were newer and more exciting. The sideshows were freakier and just a tad short of appalling by today’s standards. Everything was flashier and more tawdry all at the same time.

Just walking the midway could give you a buzz of excitement; you didn’t even have to buy a ticket.

One of Dan’s favorites on one of those trips was dubbed something like “The Ride of Death.”

It was a large cylinder in which a daring guy on a motorcycle would ride round and round at such high speeds that he was literally climbing the walls thanks to centrifugal force. No doubt about it, he earned his money and the thrills were worth the admission price.

Fast forward a couple of decades and Connie and I were living in Indy when my sister Louise came for a visit and wanted to check out the state fair.

We obliged, but the three of us left so shaken that we weren’t sure we’d ever come back.

The fair that year had a double Ferris wheel. Not side by side, one on top of the other.

Since then, the Jay County Fair has had one a couple of times. But back then, it was something we’d never encountered.

And when the three of us were at the top of the top wheel and it simultaneously made its circuit while the two wheels made their larger circuit, we were convinced we would die. The sense that the three of us were going to plummet to our deaths was irrational; nobody else had died on the double Ferris wheel. But that didn’t make any difference. We were scared silly.

A couple of decades more and I was finding myself at the state fair for Band Day, rooting for the Marching Patriots and trying to make sure I got the right photos and quotes to put together coverage band members and their families would enjoy.

Those were actually my favorite Indiana State Fairs.

I’d hang out with the band and staff in the infield in the morning, shoot the mid-day competition, then goof around at places like the Pioneer Barn and the art exhibits until the evening competition.

Then, after what seemed to be an inevitable fourth place trophy for several years, I’d head for home in the darkness.

As for my brother Steve, I’m guessing he would have been back the next day for more state fair fun.