More WV State Fair Shenanigans
Here is the "more" I promised yesterday evening.
As many state fairgoers can attest, there is more to a fair than the midway. There is the "buy stuff" hall (featured briefly in yesterday's installment). Then there is the craft hall. The craft hall had lots of quilts hanging from the ceiling, but the one that caught my eye was this, the quilt of presidents:
I hope you can see it in all its nephew-art splendor--some of the prezzies are hard to identify without their nametags. All snittiness aside, I do think it is a noble effort at quiltery. It did give me just a bit of pause that W's dates in office have been rendered as "2000-200 " with no end date given. I can only hope that indicates the quilter was hoping against hope that s/he could insert a pre-2009 date for the end of the nimrod-in-chief's term.
There was a seal show that we missed, but we were just in time for the photo-op.
They were charging folks ten smackeroos to have their pictures taken with the placid pinnipeds, but I snapped this photo gratis...
As I still had my braces on, I couldn't avail myself of this foodstand, much as I wanted to:
Note the helpful signage.
To divert my attention from golden ears of corn slathered in rich creamery butter, we headed to the livestock barns to see what was up. We watched the heiffer judging for a while:
This little guy and his heiffer were a class of one, as were several other entrants. No matter, each received a ribbon right from the hands of the dairy princess, who appeared to have had enough of the entire enterprise:
To be fair (at the fair--get it?), she'd probably been looking at heiffers of one sort or another all day long.
Next, we proceded to the horse barn, where Beth made an equine friend:
We went into the swine barn (which the porcines shared with the goats). The goats were stinky. Really stinky. The pigs were kind of stinky, but nowhere near as stinky as the goats. And who couldn't love this sweet face?
The rabbits were next. The first bunny to catch our eye was this guy, a Flemish Giant:
Since there is nothing in the photo to provide a size reference, you are going to have to trust me on this--this guy was BIG. He (or she, didn't note which gender) was every bit as big as Shelly, our 15-pound fluffy divacat. If not more so. As you can see, I uploaded a big version of the bun to try to approximate the rabbity splendor.
Then there was this guy, some kind of angora rabbit:
Or a tribble.
We wanted to see the poultry next--as I have seen chickens at both the Virginia and New York state fairs with amazing fountainesque crests and feathers that look like the tribble's--I mean, the bunny's--fur, but they had canceled the poultry exhibit this year due to concerns about avian flu. Well, better safe than sorry, I guess. But dag.
As night fell and soft lights began to play on the souvenir stands,
a cheezy oldies band took the stage. Their first number? "Oh What a Night." Indeed.
At least their dinner jackets are sparkly.
The bloke whose job it is to goad passersby until they pay to try to soak him took his place on his precarious platform.
He had the patter down, but the real source of annoyance was his nasal, Haskellesque laugh. Ugh. We did see him get soaked, though. Twice in a row. Heh.
There is something magical about a carnival midway at night. The peeling paint and rickety-looking nuts, bolts, and beams recede into the darkness, and the lights just take over:
The lights can't obscure the torture-chamber aspect of some of these thrill rides, though. Note the giant four-toed claw that not only swings patrons up and down as if they are affixed to a sideways pendulum, but whirls them around and back and forth and you name the direction, they are getting shunted in it, feet dangling and hands clutching their harnesses for dear life. Can you pick out the ride I'm describing?
Now look to the left, at that ride nestled within the archway of golden incandescence. That is the flying saucer ride, where they herd the willing victims into a centrifuge and spin the living crap out of them. Here's the warning sign posted in front of said attractive nuisance (I'm uploading a large version in the hope that you will be able to read it):
Please note the additional warning someone has written in: "Low Suger" (sic) in a faded circle with slash.
At least they offered the tame and pleasantly retro Tilt-a-Whirl
And, naturally, you cannot have a midway without a carousel.
Not nearly as imposing or utterly creepy as the one at House on the Rock, but sweet and kid-sized. And you can actually RIDE this one.
Footsore and weary, we reluctantly left the midway and headed back toward the BAV, our sojourn at the West Virginia State Fair over for this year.
Cheers!
As many state fairgoers can attest, there is more to a fair than the midway. There is the "buy stuff" hall (featured briefly in yesterday's installment). Then there is the craft hall. The craft hall had lots of quilts hanging from the ceiling, but the one that caught my eye was this, the quilt of presidents:
I hope you can see it in all its nephew-art splendor--some of the prezzies are hard to identify without their nametags. All snittiness aside, I do think it is a noble effort at quiltery. It did give me just a bit of pause that W's dates in office have been rendered as "2000-200 " with no end date given. I can only hope that indicates the quilter was hoping against hope that s/he could insert a pre-2009 date for the end of the nimrod-in-chief's term.
There was a seal show that we missed, but we were just in time for the photo-op.
They were charging folks ten smackeroos to have their pictures taken with the placid pinnipeds, but I snapped this photo gratis...
As I still had my braces on, I couldn't avail myself of this foodstand, much as I wanted to:
Note the helpful signage.
To divert my attention from golden ears of corn slathered in rich creamery butter, we headed to the livestock barns to see what was up. We watched the heiffer judging for a while:
This little guy and his heiffer were a class of one, as were several other entrants. No matter, each received a ribbon right from the hands of the dairy princess, who appeared to have had enough of the entire enterprise:
To be fair (at the fair--get it?), she'd probably been looking at heiffers of one sort or another all day long.
Next, we proceded to the horse barn, where Beth made an equine friend:
We went into the swine barn (which the porcines shared with the goats). The goats were stinky. Really stinky. The pigs were kind of stinky, but nowhere near as stinky as the goats. And who couldn't love this sweet face?
The rabbits were next. The first bunny to catch our eye was this guy, a Flemish Giant:
Since there is nothing in the photo to provide a size reference, you are going to have to trust me on this--this guy was BIG. He (or she, didn't note which gender) was every bit as big as Shelly, our 15-pound fluffy divacat. If not more so. As you can see, I uploaded a big version of the bun to try to approximate the rabbity splendor.
Then there was this guy, some kind of angora rabbit:
Or a tribble.
We wanted to see the poultry next--as I have seen chickens at both the Virginia and New York state fairs with amazing fountainesque crests and feathers that look like the tribble's--I mean, the bunny's--fur, but they had canceled the poultry exhibit this year due to concerns about avian flu. Well, better safe than sorry, I guess. But dag.
As night fell and soft lights began to play on the souvenir stands,
a cheezy oldies band took the stage. Their first number? "Oh What a Night." Indeed.
At least their dinner jackets are sparkly.
The bloke whose job it is to goad passersby until they pay to try to soak him took his place on his precarious platform.
He had the patter down, but the real source of annoyance was his nasal, Haskellesque laugh. Ugh. We did see him get soaked, though. Twice in a row. Heh.
There is something magical about a carnival midway at night. The peeling paint and rickety-looking nuts, bolts, and beams recede into the darkness, and the lights just take over:
The lights can't obscure the torture-chamber aspect of some of these thrill rides, though. Note the giant four-toed claw that not only swings patrons up and down as if they are affixed to a sideways pendulum, but whirls them around and back and forth and you name the direction, they are getting shunted in it, feet dangling and hands clutching their harnesses for dear life. Can you pick out the ride I'm describing?
Now look to the left, at that ride nestled within the archway of golden incandescence. That is the flying saucer ride, where they herd the willing victims into a centrifuge and spin the living crap out of them. Here's the warning sign posted in front of said attractive nuisance (I'm uploading a large version in the hope that you will be able to read it):
Please note the additional warning someone has written in: "Low Suger" (sic) in a faded circle with slash.
At least they offered the tame and pleasantly retro Tilt-a-Whirl
And, naturally, you cannot have a midway without a carousel.
Not nearly as imposing or utterly creepy as the one at House on the Rock, but sweet and kid-sized. And you can actually RIDE this one.
Footsore and weary, we reluctantly left the midway and headed back toward the BAV, our sojourn at the West Virginia State Fair over for this year.
Cheers!
Labels: Barb, Beth, bright lights, carneys, cheezy oldies bands, Cortney, dairy princess, fairs, Jeff, livestock, nephew art
posted by Cathy VanPatten at 8:02 PM
5 Comments:
My friend Anne, aka Anne Thomas Soffee, unrepentant fair junkie and author of Snake Hips and Nerd (with an umlaut) Girl Rocks Paradise City is having near conniptions because the State Fair is COMING SOON!
I have both of Anne's books and love them!
Are you planning on going to the VA state fair? I remember it so fondly. Alas, I am sure Miss Tweet-tweet bit the dust a long, long time ago. But perhaps the VA state fair will have the world's smallest horse, don't you think? Ewok says he's still on display at the TX state fair...
Ah, the WV State Fair at night! It takes on a whole other aura when the sun goes down and the stars come out and the lights come on. I have been seriously toying with a novel idea for our friend the Soaked Bloke. Not sure he'll be a disrobed Jesuit, but he's gonna have some creepy shit go down. (Is it okay to say shit here?)
Love the final shot. Your expression kind of sums up how we all felt when the day was done!
Beth
LOVE the tribble reference! That bunny did look like one of those pesky, but oh-so-cute trouble makers.
It looked like a great way to spend a day. As your friend Beth said, that last picture says it all!
Interesting to know.
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