The last day of the State Fair
Having grown up in Chicago, I only got to attend the Illinois State Fair in Springfield once- back in 1960. My chief memories of the event were acquiring a Nixon button and being startled in the parking lot by a huge, obscenely naked-looking male hog.
Since I've lived in Des Moines, I've often gone to the State Fair. Still debating about whether to go tonight- the last night; after all, things don't generally change much from year to year. Granted, deep-fried Twinkies and Oreos aren't available many other places (for which, perhaps, we all should be grateful), and having grown up with lamb as a staple meat I always look forward to a visit to the Lamb Producers' Pavilion. The booth where they serve huge, fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and tall glasses of cold milk also calls to me over the hog manure-scented breezes, as do the inch- thick Iowa pork chops on a stick. And I haven't been there in years. Maybe I'll rouse myself and get down to the Fairgrounds tonight.
But I wish other city kids could visit the Iowa State Fair (we do it here as it is done in few other states, if any at all). Other states may have their Butter Cow (a lifesize model of Old Bossie, done in the best yellow stuff- and usually accompanied by a lifesize statue of Elvis or Tim McGraw or some other country western singer, also done in butter). Other states have the rides and maybe even the ice cream parlors. "Snakes Alive-" the touring exhibit where Egyptian cobras, shy Florida coral snakes and huge, beautiful, deadly Gaboon vipers come face to face with you- by definition travels from place to place. And you can see horses and prizewinning hogs and sheep at many state fairs.
Maybe some even have the Ugly Cake Contest, in which youngsters compete to bake the most revolting-looking yet wholesome and tasty desert. Prizewinning chili and flower arrangements and esthetically pleasing tomatoes may be found elsewhere. And the live music (generally of various kinds I intensely dislike, I grant) is in no way unusual. The home-made pork rinds and Bloody Mary mix (with a stick of pickled asparagus in every bottle) are- however tasty- by no means unique. And even in Chicago, I got to watch baby chicks hatching at the Museum of Science and Industry.
But I never saw a calf born. You can see that at the Iowa State Fair. There's something special about the pride in the eye of a young man who has raised a hog from the time it was tiny, and then has watched it awarded a blue ribbon. Equistrian contests aren't things I went to often in Chicago or St. Louis or Washington or the other urban centers where I've lived; you can stroll in off the Fairway and enjoy one pretty much any afternoon at the Fair, while munching on a smoked turkey leg just off the grill, or a Wonderbar especially dipped in melted chocolate and ground nuts for your personal enjoyment moments before.
Now, I don't mean to suggest that any of this is unique to Iowa. Illinois does it too- and does it well; so do Nebraska and Kansas and Wisconsin and countless other states. But Iowa takes justifiable pride in the way it does it- not only on the scale, but on how everything is done so well. Visitors from other rural states come away greatly impressed; so, too, do city kids like me.
The Iowa State Fair is rightly called America's classic state fair, and it's an experience well worth having. Again, it doesn't change much from year to year. But then, it only happens for a couple of weeks each August, and every year at this time I seem to get a hankering for corn dogs (there are none others like them on the planet) and smoked turkey legs fresh off the grill that just can't be satisfied at any other time, or any other place.
Since I've lived in Des Moines, I've often gone to the State Fair. Still debating about whether to go tonight- the last night; after all, things don't generally change much from year to year. Granted, deep-fried Twinkies and Oreos aren't available many other places (for which, perhaps, we all should be grateful), and having grown up with lamb as a staple meat I always look forward to a visit to the Lamb Producers' Pavilion. The booth where they serve huge, fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and tall glasses of cold milk also calls to me over the hog manure-scented breezes, as do the inch- thick Iowa pork chops on a stick. And I haven't been there in years. Maybe I'll rouse myself and get down to the Fairgrounds tonight.
But I wish other city kids could visit the Iowa State Fair (we do it here as it is done in few other states, if any at all). Other states may have their Butter Cow (a lifesize model of Old Bossie, done in the best yellow stuff- and usually accompanied by a lifesize statue of Elvis or Tim McGraw or some other country western singer, also done in butter). Other states have the rides and maybe even the ice cream parlors. "Snakes Alive-" the touring exhibit where Egyptian cobras, shy Florida coral snakes and huge, beautiful, deadly Gaboon vipers come face to face with you- by definition travels from place to place. And you can see horses and prizewinning hogs and sheep at many state fairs.
Maybe some even have the Ugly Cake Contest, in which youngsters compete to bake the most revolting-looking yet wholesome and tasty desert. Prizewinning chili and flower arrangements and esthetically pleasing tomatoes may be found elsewhere. And the live music (generally of various kinds I intensely dislike, I grant) is in no way unusual. The home-made pork rinds and Bloody Mary mix (with a stick of pickled asparagus in every bottle) are- however tasty- by no means unique. And even in Chicago, I got to watch baby chicks hatching at the Museum of Science and Industry.
But I never saw a calf born. You can see that at the Iowa State Fair. There's something special about the pride in the eye of a young man who has raised a hog from the time it was tiny, and then has watched it awarded a blue ribbon. Equistrian contests aren't things I went to often in Chicago or St. Louis or Washington or the other urban centers where I've lived; you can stroll in off the Fairway and enjoy one pretty much any afternoon at the Fair, while munching on a smoked turkey leg just off the grill, or a Wonderbar especially dipped in melted chocolate and ground nuts for your personal enjoyment moments before.
Now, I don't mean to suggest that any of this is unique to Iowa. Illinois does it too- and does it well; so do Nebraska and Kansas and Wisconsin and countless other states. But Iowa takes justifiable pride in the way it does it- not only on the scale, but on how everything is done so well. Visitors from other rural states come away greatly impressed; so, too, do city kids like me.
The Iowa State Fair is rightly called America's classic state fair, and it's an experience well worth having. Again, it doesn't change much from year to year. But then, it only happens for a couple of weeks each August, and every year at this time I seem to get a hankering for corn dogs (there are none others like them on the planet) and smoked turkey legs fresh off the grill that just can't be satisfied at any other time, or any other place.
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