Sunday, August 26, 2012

State Fair

State Fair

When it’s state fair time
I must go at least once
If not twice or even three times
I might miss something
Something big
And everyone I know will be there

If I can’t be there, something is wrong
Like some silent disease
I’d grow jealous of the happy adults
Waving their corndogs at the television cameras
Smiling because they’ve reentered childhood
And I have not.

My history is carved into its buildings, its grounds
Once the fair opens
Ghosts of my past reopen like a well-loved book
Full of memories, moments
Reliving my stories from the outside in.

Early morning, I meet friends at the Star Tribune
The foot of the grandstand
The concrete bridge leads you up into its second floor
A windowless garage
Reminding me of a flea market in Florida

Ronco salesmen and Christian book retailers call out to me
“Take a look at this!”
United Stores has moved away and so has the customized dog tags
That I bought in honor of my first boyfriend

Walk sidewalks that I walked the year before
And the year before that
Crossing my own path
Walking around in circles like a lost hiker
In search of a cheese curd or a fudge puppy
Or the nearest bathroom on a stick

Leaping over legs,
Dodging strollers spread out to rest
On street curbs and small patches of green grass
Trampled and wet

I stop for food
The Armour foot long by the haunted house
The mini donuts near the Grand Stand
The food building shuffle
Peters hotdogs, French fries, taffy, and elephant ears

Stopping in at the art center, dog and 4H exhibits,
Butter carvings in the dairy building
Stumbling over seniors in Heritage Square
Whose numbers double every year

A mandatory appearance at the barns
To greet animals’ behinds
Pick out a favorite goat, horse, and swine
Ask myself why there are chickens in the sheep barn?

Head over to the coliseum, so I can walk another circle
Stop for horses trotting in for their show
Spilled beer mixes comfortably in the dust
Urban cowboys and girls walk with chocolate covered strawberries,
Trying on western shirts and picking out oysters with pearls

One stop for cheese curds
Another at the Giant Slide
I walk by honey candy, bees and flowers

I ignore  “all the milk you can drink” signs
because the price is too high
a beer at the bazaar makes much more sense

I spread  myself over to
Ye Old Mill and
The Midway at dusk
So grateful that the carnie yelling is not my nephew

Feet aching, but content I ride the bus home with
Overtired, sugar induced children and parents passed out on fun
I return with bags and papers,
One more yard stick for the closet
And a half filled container of Sweet Martha’s

Tired and surprisingly hungry for something a bit more healthy
and less expensive than a $6 hot dog
I did it, I’m done.
“How was the fair?” my friends ask
“Oh the same” I answer. 
But that’s why I like it

Robin Sauerwein
August 22, 2012

Tuesday, August 21, 2012


15 years of marriage this week. It doesn’t seem like that long and that’s a good thing. I have been married once before and I know what a bad marriage is like.  That is why I was so reluctant to try it again.

I get different reactions to us as a couple.  Some look at us as an odd couple, opposite in appearance, nature, personality, hobbies.  I have agreed to that interpretation as well.

I am quiet, introverted, and romantic. I prefer a long quiet walk in a park to a loud party. I enjoy reading, writing, and the arts. I love almost all types of music. I am very patient with people.

Bill is loud and loves to socialize. He’s a storyteller. He listens to Heavy Metal and Yanni.  He loves strategy and politics. He is practical and brutally honest.   He is boisterous and unafraid of confrontation. He angers easily towards tools and ignorant people. His son, Stefan, moves out of the way if he sees his eyes turn black.  (Thoughts of the Hulk come to my mind.)  He will stand up for not only himself but for others. Many people think he is taller than he is by his confident gait. He carries a very intimidating knife for everything from cutting an apple (he says only animals gnaw at that their food) to scratching his back.

 My sister who met him first said, “You’ve got to meet Bill he is so funny and looks like Charles Manson.” 

Why would I find him interesting?  

His best friend, Joe also said, “You have to see Bill’s bedroom. He has comic books on one side, weapons on the other, and a bunch of care bears.”
I wasn’t too excited.

I wasn’t into knives or comic books and I hated care bears. Yet I agreed to meet him and that is when I learned the meaning of that the old saying, “you can’t tell a book by its cover.” You might say he is an oxymoron of himself.  Within a couple of years we were married.

At first blush, it can seem we are polar opposites. But opposites attract.
In many ways we represent the paradoxes of life:  the good/evil, the yin/yang that exists in this world. 

Underneath the obvious differences between us, lies a solid value system of trust and respect that displays itself daily.  We have much more in common than what others see on the surface.

Bill talks about my latest projects or successes to neighbors and coworkers frequently.  “We hear about you all the time,” they say. I blush. Really?  Why would this burly, loud,  “manly man” talk about his wife while bartending. But he does.

He also comes home and tells me about all the men who complain about their wives and their marriages.

And then there are those moments where our opposite natures complement each other similar to a teacher who places a quiet student next to a hyperactive one.

When Bill is ready to “ring the sales manager’s neck “at Home Depot, he will call me so I can listen to his ranting. My calmness calms him down. (Thus no appearance by the Hulk)  

Likewise, when I am prone to a bad mood swing, he is there to poke and tease me into laughing because again out of character, Bill is always in a good mood.

I can’t say Bill has ever bought me a $75 dollar bouquet of roses on Valentine’s Day or even remembered to wish me a happy birthday (without reminding him).  But I do remember the time he presented me with a single rose, or on a 95 degree day, after working for 9 hours in the heat, Bill went to the state fairgrounds picking up my favorite fair food to surprise me because I was pregnant and on bed rest; or the sonnet he composed for me, just for the heck of it while on a lake alone in the Boundary Waters.

It isn’t what you do on the designated Hallmark dates that matter but how you treat each other on a daily basis.

Although I haven’t been happier, here is where we switch roles.  I am the realist and Bill is the romantic. I believe there isn’t’ any guarantee in life that we will always be together.

Yet, Bill’s answer to this is, “If you divorce me, you can take the house but I’m keeping all the nails.”

Definitely something I need to think about first.