Seen at the Minnesota State Fair

I went to the Minnesota State Fair Saturday. I don't think I had been there since 2006. The Great Minnesota Get-Together was not a part of my childhood. I didn't go to my first Fair until 1987, spending a day there with my mom. We started by eating cinnamon bread the size and shape of an elephant's ear (which I think was its name) and concluded the day by making a mad dash to the car through a downpour after seeing George Jones and Willie Nelson play at the Grandstand.

Fast-forward 27 years and those two memories are all I can recall from that first time at the Fair. In between I'm sure we ate, strolled through buildings, sat in on product demonstrations, ate, saw livestock, hiked up Machinery Hill, ate, stepped around fresh manure, watched a hunk of butter transformed into a girl's head, ate . . . Like two recent parolees, we undoubtedly couldn't get enough of conspicuous consumption.

The more things change the more they stay the same.

I had no plans to go to the Fair this year. I was lazily napping on the couch yesterday when my phone rang. A friend was calling to ask if I wanted to head over to the Fairgrounds. Regardless of the fact that it was the last Saturday of the fair and it would be crowded with more humanity than most people ever see with their naked eye, I said sure.

To an extra-terrestrial on its first journey to Earth, the Minnesota State Fair is; a) the perfect opportunity to carry out an alien abduction or; b) the ideal place to see everything the world has to offer in a one square mile area.

Though I'm no E.T., I did feel more like a visitor to the Fair from a distant planet than a native Minnesotan. I was overwhelmed, I was speechless, I was full. Sensory overload. Though I didn't take any notes, here is a short list of things Seen at the Fair:

1. A parking spot (about a 30 minute walk and two bus transfers from the fair entrance).

2. Exhausted parents.

3. All the strollers Graco has manufactured in the past 18 months.

4. Aimless wandering.

5. An enormous sow (also an exhausted parent) with eight newborn piglets. As cute as there were, pork is still my favorite meat.

6. Teenagers showing their sheep in the livestock barn. Apparently, mules aren't the only animals who can be stubborn. Sheep clearly have minds of their own. And teeth, if that bite on one kid's hind end was any indication.

7. Cleavage. The State Fair and country music festivals have LOTS in common.

8. Even more tattoos. Yes, tattoos went mainstream 5-10 years ago, but yesterday confirmed it. Makes me feel a bit sorry for all those rebels.

9. Fresh manure. Not gonna lie - horse crap brings back good childhood memories. How many bowel movements can you say that about?

10. A woman about to upchuck all the beer she had drank the previous four hours at the beer garden. Her man was keeping her upright (mostly), but there was ground splatter in her very near future. I wanted to stick around and watch but the tide of humanity pushed me onward. 

11. A lost little girl. Thankfully two uniformed police officers were keeping her calm and asking her questions. She was bravely keeping her composure but her eyes were beginning to swim in a pool of tears. Thank goodness for the cops.

12. A stuffed gorilla the size of a refrigerator. And the miserable father - bent over - carrying it on his back. Love the Midway!

13. A little girl who desperately wanted to pet a goat but just couldn't summon up the courage to do it. The sweetness of childhood on display in front of my eyes.

14. Couples in love and affectionate towards each other. Reassuring to see.

15. Gaggles of teenagers circling, boys and girls sizing each other up, deciding whether to initiate contact or simply move on. Despite all their 21st century gadgetry, this scene has played out since the Fair's beginning.

16. An unreal amount of money changing hands. I can't imagine how much revenue is generated by the State of Minnesota and individual vendors. Economy stimulated!

17. Garbage. Tons of garbage.

18. A corndog that was at least 2 feet long.

19. Lots and lots of Minnesota Nice (excuse me, sorry, I didn't see you there, are you okay, you go ahead, I'm fine, thank you, you're welcome). There is no substitute for deference and manners.

20. Families together - despite the crowds, congestion, sensory overload, and stress - thoroughly enjoying each other and the Fair.

Four hours later we began the long walk back to the car a little dazed, slightly sick to our stomachs, not entirely sure what had just happened - but glad we went. The Minnesota State Fair's origins were a way to celebrate our agriculture heritage and put a big bow on another summer in the Midwest. The Fair still does that, but now only peripherally. Instead, it has morphed into a celebration of Us in all of our loud, lovely, raucous, diverse, and congenial imperfection.