County fair: (n) a small-time exhibition

There is a danger in trying to make everything look big.

If you succeed, the best comment you get is, “Well, that’s almost as good as the big one…”

If you fail, any number of snickers, snorts and boos may trickle in your direction because you had the audacity to contend that you could compete with the big boys and girls.

That’s why I like county fairs. They know they’re not state fairs.

They know they’re not Great America, Six Flags, or dear God, no way to even resemble Disney World.

They bring the essence of the local and showcase it the best they can. They make no apologies for having competitions for the top hog instead of holding a huge rodeo with country music stars.

The booths are simple and often sponsored by the Women’s Auxiliary of the First Community Church, who have taken a buffet table, covered it in bunting and placed their finest brownies, fig squares and homemade oven mitts.

The entertainment willingly admits that it’s not professional and plays the instruments through a P.A. system borrowed from a guy in a nearby town who used to be a roadie long ago, for the Monkees.

The county fair is not so large that you can’t get around it in one night, and you can still get all the confections, candies and processed meats that are proudly displayed in the huge thoroughfares.

But I suppose the greatest thing about a county fair is that you’ll see a lot of people you know, some people that are relatives of people you know (which you acknowledge by their resemblance) and a few people you’re introduced to who have moved to the community and this is their very first county fair.

Come one, come all. It isn’t great…it’s just us.

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Published by Jonathan Cring