For my birthday we went to the Orange County Fair up in Barton. I LOVE the fair. Not in an ironic hipstery way–I sincerely love the stalls full of well-kept animals and hopeful owners in their country best. The midway games, rigged or pointless or impossible, full of cheap toys made in a Chinese village where the workers must wonder what the hell we’re thinking. The Bloomin’ Onions, sausage and peppers, roasted corn, fresh lemonade, and cotton candy. I want to watch kids rassle pigs; I need fried dough with cinnamon sugar ; I crave a mirror with Black Sabbath’s logo.
See this little girl? She had bunnies. She took care of them herself and was very proud to show them off. Had the makings of a sharp little businessperson too, letting us know when the next litter was due, how much they’d cost, asking if we’d like a cute bunny of our own. There’s something about a county fair that just feels different from anything else in the world–that mix of socializing, business, entertainment you don’t get any other place, local tradition, agriculture, good bad food, and, yes, tackiness.