Clark County Fair

[Martin Hash]

Martin With Painted Lady.jpg

Martin with Painted Lady

My wife, Gwynne, and I love going to the Clark County Fair, especially the free concerts, but also for everything else; just the atmosphere is worth it. Gwynne’s been going longer than I have; she was in 4H and FFA; she used to attend the fairs when she was a girl, showing her animals. (She even wore her FFA jacket to her 50th high school reunion.) Since the turn of the century, if we are home in August, the fair has been one of our biggest anticipations. I regret I didn’t start going before that but I was an ambitious patriarch more interested in building my business than having a good time with my wife and all the other fair-goers. Maybe that just made me appreciate the fair more now?

This year I went to the fair 5 times (Gwynne went 6): 3 times for concerts, once to take some friends visiting from Australia. They thoroughly enjoyed the butterfly barn which encouraged local butterflies, Painted Ladies, to land your nose. Encouraged by that wildlife encounter, our friends wanted to see the parrot show. I couldn’t remember watching it before. The demonstrator was wearing authentic-looking pirate costume, and had his rescue parrots flying around while explaining to us how he raised endangered species for release back into the wild. It was quite interesting, and for a donation he would give photographs.

Gwynne with Parrot Pirate.JPG

Gwynne with Parrot Pirate

Yesterday we went to the fair to see my granddaughter, Nico, run in the “Toddler Trot.” My son-in-law, David, told us Nico really had a chance to win because she could outrun all the other little kids she played with. He practiced with her for ten minutes or so before her mom shooed her off the starting line while he waited, arms outstretched. The race didn't go quite as David predicted; Nico came in last place, walking in Lurch-like steps, her lower lip pouting because she didn’t like people telling her what to do so she did the opposite, just like her mom used to be at that age. I thought it was funny and was in a jovial mode. There was a family with a four-year-old behind us. The dad was pointing out to his boy a sign saying, “Lost Children Booth.” After he had finished his explanation, I, in grandpa mode, turned to the boy.
“I got two of my children there,” I said, sincerely, nodding my head in affirmation. “And the third one we got from the police.” (An old Bill Cosby joke.)
The kid’s eyes went wide in horror. He turned to his dad for reassurance. His dad looked back at me, frowned.
“Your mom and I had you as a baby,” he emphatically told his concerned son before giving me a laser stare.
When the dad wasn’t looking, the little boy again glanced over at me. Without speaking aloud, I nodded my head rapidly, pointing over at my daughter, indicating that she came from the “Lost Children Booth” at the fair. I’m pretty sure I convinced him because he was squinting at his dad.

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Nico Losing Toddler Trot