Everyone who responded yesterday with a caption is a winner. Those were hilarious. We both got many laughs from them, and henceforth, Pierre’s new nickname is “Peeping Tomcat.” That’s so him. I will post about our girl cat sagas later.
J and I went to the county fair yesterday. It was a proper fair with rides and fair food and exhibits and livestock and all.
We had gone to our tiny county fair a couple of years ago where we used to live, but it was so very small and so not festive. This fair was what both of us remembered from childhood–and yet different. For one, neither of us is really into riding the death traps that the tweaker carnies run. We did, however, enjoy walking through the throngs of kids as they waited in line to have their adrenaline fixes.
What we really noticed is that the fair is pretty low-key when you’re an adult. We liked the flower and garden exhibits a lot and spent nearly an hour staring at the various model gardens.
We also enjoyed the art–especially the photography. I don’t want to be mean, but I’m not sure in the age of digital photography when everyone is a photographer that there should be a category for children in the photo contests. You wouldn’t believe the number of truly awful photos people entered because they thought their kids were cute when they were picking their noses or fishing. I hate to be snarky like that; I suppose that’s the beauty of the art contests at the county fair: anyone can enter.
We did spend some time in the big exhibit hall where people try to sell you time shares and makeup and moisturizer and hot tubs. I had mineral makeup put on my face (which I liked, but didn’t buy); we dipped our hands in hot tubs and played with the jets and lights; we picked up Obama stickers at the Dem booth; we exfoliated our hands with sea salt scrub and then over-moisturized them with about four different types of lotion and body butter; some young men tried to sell as an expensive hospital bed-type frame for our nontemperpedic mattress; we signed up to “win” a visit to a time share in Hawaii; we sampled really disgusting “salsa” made from dehydrated veggies and spices and a can of tomatoes (and promptly spit it out); we avoided cleaning product demonstrations; we laughed, a lot.
One thing both of us had hoped to enjoy was some semi-good music. We heard a small jazz ensemble playing, and they were fun, so we sat down near them, and they stopped to join a parade that was starting.
At the head of the “parade” were the Bud.weiser Clydes.dales.
Then came the jazz group, and then about three wagons with kids in them, and finally a group of patriotic adults carrying flags.
The parade was over in less than one minute. It was ridiculous and so very funny.
After the parade, we opted for beer, so we each bought a $7 pint of local beer–beer which they were calling “imported” because it wasn’t a macrobrew and they wanted to charge more (we buy the same beer for $7 per six pack–what is that?).
We indulged at some point in fair food which made us both sick, and we attempted to listen to music later as well, but at the main stage was a Christian rock band and all their freaky fans, and we simply had to go. Somehow, two lesbians did not fit in there. At all. We did walk through two barns to look at animals. We stumbled upon an auction for goats, and we again did not fit in. We still liked it, and J got to pet cows for the first time.
Later, we wandered through the midway and past all of the games. We did not spend five dollars to throw baseballs or darts. We did not win any large stuffed animals or beer mirrors.
I have to say that the fair is best for kids or those with kids. We definitely felt we were missing something there, and we all know what that was. Nevertheless, it was fun; at least we weren’t sitting at home watching television.