Late summer is the time to be fair-minded.
And by that, I don’t mean that we should treat those who disagree with us with an extra degree of respect – although that wouldn’t be such a bad idea as the thermometer tops out in August.
I mean we should all be thinking of the wonders of the Perry County fair, which will be upon us in less than two weeks.
At the outset, let me make a confession: for reasons beyond my control, I have not yet been able to attend the fair, a gap in my Perry County education that I plan to correct this year.
This has not been a judgment on the fair itself, which, from the Order of Fair Events, available at www.perrycountyfair.org, looks exemplary. Who wouldn’t want to take in the Market Lamb Show, or the Tractor Parade, or the sloppy thrills of the Milk Drinking and Whoopie Pie Eating Contest?
It sounds like good, clean fun.
County fairs have never really been on my radar. In fact, there was no county where I grew up – my hometown, Washington, D.C. is officially a federal district, distinct from the states, and under the supreme authority of the United States Congress. Just try to imagine a Horse Pulling Contest or a Barnyard Bonanza on Pennsylvania Avenue!
Well, maybe those aren’t the best examples…
At any rate, the kind of gatherings I experienced as a kid in D.C. were mass demonstrations of one sort or other on the Mall, or dramas involving foreign embassies — which, by the way, are considered foreign soil in the eyes of the law, further removing Washington from the typical American county.
There were school fairs, of course, and fairs dedicated to a particular political or religious viewpoint. But nothing like the communal celebration of an agricultural fair, with its focus on the next generation that will work the land, hard work, and the blessings of fair weather and fertile soil.
I have to admit that I feel a little bit like a Martian reading the 2010 Perry County Fair Premium List, which is also available at perrycountyfair.org.
First of all, I had to look up the word “premium.” I know, I know. It’s completely obvious to everyone but me. But if a “premium” is simply a prize for having, say, the best “light extracted honey,” or the best “wine – stone fruit – sweet,” why not just call it, uh, a “prize?”
(As a matter of fact, dear Reader, I could use some help on that question. So far, in all my research, I haven’t found a plausible explanation.)
So many categories! So many premiums! Something for everyone. So your apiary skills aren’t up to snuff. Not to worry! Just whip out that embroidered dresser scarf you’re so proud of. Your blaze oats are a disaster this year? Not a problem! There’s always the shoe box float competition.
Talk about a culture of inclusion. There’s a premium, it seems, for just about every skill under the sun. And I love that the top premium is often just four or five dollars, and that a fifth place finish is nevertheless still worth an honest dollar.
The Perry County fair hearkens back to pioneer days, when self-sufficiency wasn’t a trendy watchword, but a condition of survival. In our era of super-specialization, it may seem a bit odd to celebrate such a wide range of productivity – from, say, the most nimble antique tractor to the fanciest decorative soap. But the fair is designed not only to reinforce the bonds of community, but also to reward the values — and the ceaseless labor — that are necessary to harness the land.
In short, the Perry County fair is a celebration of the agrarian ideal, which is, at its heart, the American ideal as well.
If, like me, you’ve never had a chance to attend, I hope you’ll give it a try this year.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll even enter a contest.
Hm. Department 17, Section 2. “Most unusual houseplant.”
Even I could come up with something for that.
This column was published in the Perry Co Times on 05 August 2010
For more information, please contact Mr. Olshan at writing@matthewolshan.com
