A Perfect Day at the Fair

When I spotted this tiny, dark booth, I surveilled it for a while, feigning to study the map of the fairgrounds for bearings on my phone. Minutes passed, and then a few more, and all the while this forlorn booth had no guests. Literally not a single one.

It wasn't for lack of potential visitors. Friday was a perfect day for the popular fair - warm but not hot, and as comfortably cloudy as it was sometimes sunny. Ohio's capital city of Columbus is centrally located - in the Heart of it All of the Heart of it All - which makes for only a few hours' drive to its location from just about anywhere in this quite populous state. Understandably, the fair was crowded. Just about every booth got their fair (sic.) share of attention this day, but for that one - sparse, and sporting an overly tiny identifying sign - which seemed patently unable to buy a break.

The booth selling custom fitted blacksmith-forged horse bits attracted more customers. So did the Butt Tots, Jalapeño Rings, and the Puckering Pickle Popsicle attractions - both collectively and even individually. John Deere's latest bright green huge monster combine, with air-conditioning, built-in phone, coffee warmer, and satellite radio got attention (this one actually attracted quite a few admirers). The "Gutter Helmet" leaf deterrent vendor wasn't hurting for business either.

Helicopter rides suffered no lack of adventure seekers (sponsored in part by the Ohio State Highway Patrol, who's storied history is celebrated at the annual fair. When seven women reported lost husbands to the Lost Children's booth in 1949, the intrepid State Patrol famously and quickly corralled all seven.)

Another booth doing well enough was offering bright hand-sewn Easter dresses for your cat - female cats only. So were the Amish, where you could find non-electric accessories for your horse-drawn sulky. Polish catfish dill perogies were selling well, as was deep fried bubble gum (the short list of things you can't deep fry starts and pretty much ends with butter, although aficionados of superheated liquid fat, batter, and cryogenics found that this collusion leads to successfully deep frying even that.) The home-brewed non-organic jewelry cleaner vendor was paying the bills too, as was the vendor selling genuine ruminant stomach bottled rennet. But this small, dark booth was going nowhere fast.

Now Ohio is a purple state, but even though the fair takes place in the big city (Columbus is Ohio’s largest), the fair is a rural-themed park which attracts more than its share of the red team. That pretty much holds true for both booth denizens as well as fairgoers, but the marketplace’s desire to make the sale puts a damper on risky political banter. That's why I was surprised when I saw the undersized sign on the back of the lonely booth:

T R U M P

P E N C E

Make America Great Again

The two twenty-something booth caretakers were bored. Very bored. I caught the guy with the MAGA hat nodding off slightly, and the female next to him was trying to hide the fact that she was doing her nails under the table. Even in this agrarian wonderland, these two couldn't catch a fish. I've got a chippy streak which prods me to holy jihad the moment I see red, but this just wasn't the occasion. Picking on the forlorn little guy imparts no succor, so I pocketed my phone and as I strolled by their booth, I leaned in and told them "Buck up - your shift will be over soon." MAGA hat seemed a little befuddled to get any semblance of attention, while his cohort broke out into broad, well-meaning laughter. I smiled and waved at both as I strode off, motivated by my search for the perfect root beer float. It was a good day - I wasn't disappointed.