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Charms and quirks of fair can endear and entertain

Photo

Photo by Kyle Bursaw

Mark Kilcoyne, 9, from Waupaca looks down at where he would normally see his body, which is buried in corn at the Rock County 4-H fair on Tuesday.

JANESVILLE — Good-looking Guernseys.

Check.

Giggly 4-H kids.

Got ’em by the dozens.

St. John Vianney Church breakfast.

Check—with a side of sausages, please.

Some things never change at the Rock County 4-H Fair.

Actually, most things don’t change, and after awhile, regular fairgoers become oblivious to the annual event’s charms and quirks.

But the fair is a study in extremes—funny, fabulous, strange and always, always full of unintended ironies.

An afternoon at the fair yielded these impressions:

Pork ironies: The largest pig on the fairground is not in any of the barns. It’s the giant fiberglass Hampshire in front of the “Pork Place.”

Hampshires are popular because they’re so lean. Of course, after a couple of pulled pork sandwiches or a dozen or so boneless-chop sandwiches—they’re sublime—most of us leave lean behind. Or rather, we leave behind lean behinds.

Winner in the “making the best of a bad situation” category: A Waste Management truck, busy picking up a Dumpster filled with sodden food wrappers, souvenir cups and eviscerated vinyl carnival prizes, had this written on its side: “Our landfills provide over 17,000 acres of wildlife habitat.”

Signs civilization is coming to an end: Snotty T-shirts. A sample of their wearers and their slogans:

Fleshy middle-aged woman: “I’m not angry with everybody, I just don’t like you.”

8- or 9-year-old boy with his mother: “A. Don’t know. B. Don’t care. C. Can’t be bothered. D. All of the above.” D was checked.

20-something female: “I’ve decided to put myself in charge.”

Signs that civilization is not ending: The artwork in the Craig Center.

Alex Yoerger, 15, of Magnolia 4-H created a turkey using scrap metal, including a rusty bucket, old parts and rebar.

Maddie Clarke, 11, of Center 4-H painted the face and ears of an alpine dairy goat on a blue background.

In her painting, Clarke managed to capture the essence of all things dairy goat—their saucy personalities, their sense of humor and their interest in their owners’ lives.

Cows leave the barn after they’ve been milked. Dairy goats want to hang around and talk.

Fabulous babes: The members of Buttons and Keys, an accordion and piano group that played at the Craig Avenue Stage. Their ages could be anywhere from 71 to 105, but they seemed more like a pack of 18-year-olds ready for any kind of spree—and boy can they play.

“I always sung this to my husband, especially when he was sleeping,” said accordionist Linda Fredell before launching into a rendition of “I’m a Fool.”

Percussionist Alicia Hucker appeared unaware that she was wearing the sexiest red boots on the planet.

Not recommended by your chiropractor: Rides such as the “Mega-Drop” or the bumper cars.

They should just rename them “compressed vertebrae” and “repeated whiplash.”

Undisputed winner of the painfully cute contest: The baby ducks, the recently hatched pheasants and M&I’s Jim Raymond—in that order and all in the Rock County Agri-Business Council tent.

Under Raymond’s tutelage, the fuzzy yellow ducklings are trained to slide down a ramp into a water tank. The ducklings have friendly but determined personalities, sort of like Raymond himself, and you half expect to see the adult ducks working at the bank, examining ledgers, screening loans and accompanying Raymond to meetings.

In the same tent, a large corn sandbox holds human ducklings. It’s the best place for toddlers who are sick of the hot sun and parents who just want to sit down for a minute and not spend any more money.