The Fair At Night
Each night of the fair there is some sort of headlining attraction in the Grandstand and arena. Last night it was a Bull-a-Rama, mounted shooting, and a rodeo clown that had impressive dance skillz. After a long second day of livestock showing, plus a run home to the farm for laundry detail and other adulting endeavors, I might have to admit that I wasn't really feeling too fair-stive. However, I still observed some things that I feel duty bound to report.
As I was sitting in the bleachers a curious phenomena began to unfold. Flocks of creatures started gathering near the stock chutes to the left of me. In between the bullrides I found my gaze drawn to the fascinating display of species courtship that was occurring to my left. For every midriff bearing, snap chatting juvenile female in attendance, there was no less than three males posturing around her. I got to see two-step dancing masterfully completed in the gravel, no small amount of almost mammary gland exposures, and enough hair tosses to win at least one Guinness world record.
One kid with satellite dish-like protruding ears really won my admiration regarding his persistence of his bleached blonde hair, arena-dust covered goddess. He perched on a pen rail and hung on her every, non directed at him word like jackal on a zebra femur in the middle of a pack of hyenas. That kid's going places, just probably not with her.
I was thankful to all the youths for providing me intermission entertainment, although I probably didn't need it, for I was surrounded by about 20 teenagers of my acquaintance, and they all were as vociferous as a bunch of goats. They did make a great choir though when the rodeo clown led the entire crowd in a sing-a-long that started with Don't Stop Believing and ended with Sponge Bob Square Pants Good Times.
After the rodeo, my husband announced the need for an elephant ear. He contracts this affliction every year at fair time, poor thing. As the best pieces of fried dough the size of a portly pachyderm's hearing appendage were located on the opposite side of the fairgrounds, we got to stroll through the human detritus that is the fair at night.
Other than excessive packs of hormonal conjugating and posturing adolescents, most people in attendance were engaged in the fine art of fair food consumption. Ears of roasted butter dripping corn flowed by me, and my awareness list of food on a stick increased. Deep fried apple pie on a stick! With caramel!
Elephant ear procured, we sauntered back to our trailer. On the way back I stopped and said good evening to my new friend Mule-ssolini. a Percheron mule of fantastic size and dictatorial disposition, I grew a great affinity for the tyrant when I first stopped to say hi on Wednesday. He unapologetically confiscates his partner's hay and basks in the food deprived discomfort that he causes. This particular animal has a jug head the size of my entire body, and every inch of that skull seeths arrogance. Love that mule.
This morning I get to go volunteer in the 4H food booth. I can honestly say there isn't anything as fun as being thrown into a commercial kitchen wth a bunch of tired parents who have no idea what's going on. It should be a smashingly good time!
And as always, all of the images in this post were snapped on the author's blinded from beholding a 350lb rodeo clown twerking to Beyoncé in a leotard iPhone.
Additional fair-explanatory addendum of infinite sympathy: All this week's posts are being composed, formatted, and posted on my phone. My apologies regarding any lackluster-ness.