It's still all good
The annual ritual of sweeping up the wife and kids and heading down to the fairgrounds for the Cumming Fair and Country Festival has arrived. Of course, my kids love it. The wife, well, she’s in it solely for the funnel cakes and candy apples. From my perspective, the fair kind of sucks – in a “quality of fair experience” sense. Most of the rides are the same as last year or really old; seriously, they still have a ride with a big Soviet hammer and sickle on it. I don’t even try to shoot out the red star with the bent sight bb gun anymore (even if watching my kids try is a hoot). I haven’t eaten the food since the polish sausage incident of 2006.
But there is one major redeeming quality that makes it interesting; the social experiment.
I’ve lived in Forsyth County for over a decade, and during that time I’ve learned that the only opportunity to witness the integration of the county is at the Fair. Forsyth County has developed itself into an exurban enclave of the affluent. Gated communities, and status as one of the wealthiest counties in the nation, now largely defines our little “bedroom community”. The only problem is that picturesque view of Forsyth County has otherwise hidden the rest of the county. A large, and mostly lower income, hispanic population that’s tied to the bottomed out housing market and the Tyson chicken plant. The rural population, particularly in the north half of the county, that struggles to make ends meet while living in trailers sitting next to mansions. For that segment of the county, a Shangri-La it ain’t.
But at the fair, we see both faces of our community in the same place enjoying the same worn out crap. A soccer mom, with a Coach bag over slung over her shoulder, waiting in line to shuttle her kid onto a 30 year old Tilt-A-Whirl. A guy with a wife beater tee lifting his kid up to a counter to get a fried oreo (something else – do.not.want.). I’m sure there is some profound commentary that belongs here, but I just enjoy the people watching and the fact, that at least on one occasion, it’s an unavoidable confluence of all the people who live here.
Other more random experiences from this years fair:
Care for a Fillet at the Fair?
You think I’m kidding about the food? Well, I’m not. Perhaps I’m just a puss who lacks the ability to try weird shit, but you can pretty much bank on the fact that I will never eat “corn in a cup with mayonnaise and cheyenne pepper” or any other tasty treat that is “fried”. I’ll just take your word for it. Also, while lobster and filet mignon are on my list of favorite things to eat, I’ll think I’ll pass getting them from a food stand. Just sayin…
The fair does bring out the poli. A gentleman at the Fair Tax booth, who, incidentally, looked like a serial killer, lurched out to enlist me. Had the wife and kids not been along for the ride, I fear that would have ended very badly… damn tax cultists. The race to replace the Ghetto Grandmother hater is in full swing with signage apparent for Graves, Evans, and Hawkins. I collected a push card for Graves that is destined for my garbage can, and I filled out an “issue” survey for Hawkins. I also met Hawkin’s daughter and wife. I’m sure my entry for the GPS giveaway – I’m not filling out that survey for nothing! – will also find its way to the garbage. Why?
For the record, I answered:
Top Issues: Health Care Reform, Environment, and WoT (the others options were ridiculous). I’ve already forgot the second of two “questions” at the bottom – a.k.a poll questions only Strategic Vision could love – but I answered “No” to the question “shouldn’t we oppose cap and trade legislation that will make you poor and hurt your grandmother?”. The other question was equally stupid. The only consolation prize is knowing that after filling out the “survey”, I’m likely to never get GOTV robo-calls from the Hawkins campaign.
I gave Jake my H20 race winnings.
Lastly, in spite of the crap quality, it’s still great time spent with family. I now sit atop the family heap in the game where you sit on a stool and fire water into a tube (and scored a kewl stuffed skull in the process). And the time spent with the kids, even if that meant sitting in a basket that whirled around to the tunes of Michael Jackson, was well worth it.
Good times.
