Recognize hard work going into fair

It’s fair week.

There are rides to ride, games to play and animals to show. More than all that, there are people to talk to. It seems that half of the town along with people from the surrounding areas are on the fairgrounds at any given time. Friends and neighbors search for familiar names on the entries for everything from quilts to chickens.

I like going to the fair. A long time ago I attended the Eaton, Ohio, fair with a group of kids. We zeroed in on one of the games and went home with a pocket full of trinkets. What I remember most is not the trinkets we won or the rides we went on. No, what I remember most is that was the first time I had held hands with a boy in public.

Kenny Rader and I “sort of’” liked each other. This was no budding romance, rather it was a minor step in growing up. I wouldn’t recognize him if he knocked on my door.

One year we went to the Greeneville Fair. My girl friend and I liked a ride called the Tilt-A-Whirl. The only problem was that we were the only two on the ride. Either we were too light for the ride or the operator made it too fast. We came out of our seats and had a death grip on the safety bar.

As a result of holding on for dear life, I couldn’t grab my glasses when they flew off. When the ride was finally over, the two of us searched for my glasses. Do you have any idea how futile it was to try to search for a pair of glasses when I couldn’t see well?

We never found them.

At that time my brothers were little. They liked going on the big slide. I had to go with them to make sure they were safe. That meant climbing up that endless expanse of steps, holding on to their tiny hands while being almost blind. It added a whole extra dimension to the adventure.

Those days are over. I haven’t been on a ride in years. I have traded in my glasses for contacts. They aren’t impossible to lose but so far they have stayed on my eyes where they belong.

Life happened. There were decades where I didn’t know nor care when or where the local county fair was held. When we moved here the county fair was once again a good way to pass a summer day. I enjoy walking through the barns. I have always loved the smell of fresh hay. I may be weird but I also like the smell of cows and horses. I am not fond of the pigs but their owners keep them clean and their natural perfume isn’t noticeable.

In addition to the rides and animals, there have been a series of concerts at the local fair. We have attended several of them and have never been disappointed. We haven’t gone for a few years because they have been featuring more current groups. We are getting older and don’t recognize the performers.

For many farm kids, going to the fair and showing their animals is a part of growing up. The local fair is a safe place for young people to experience a bit of freedom and responsibility.

Even if the fair is not something you care for, it is important to recognize the hard work that goes into making the event enjoyable and safe for all involved.