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
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