Oh, the excitement fair week brings!

It’s fair week again! I remember how excited I used to get and how I'd save my allowance and any other money I could scrape together in the weeks and months leading up to the fair. Sometimes my mother and/or grandparents would also pony up some money to add to the cache I'd blow there. To me, fair week always seemed like the consolation prize for having to start a new year of school. I loved almost everything about it (the fair, not school, but that's another story).

The Columbia County Fair has some different aspects to it than the fair I grew up with in Union County. We didn't have a parade when the fair began in El Dorado. I don’t remember the livestock over there being quite as big a deal as it is here. It seemed like the cakes/pies/jams/crafts were more of a thing. I could be wrong. We always tried to get Mamaw to enter foods or clothing she made. I mean, seriously, the woman made my coats and swimsuits — she made nearly every stitch of clothing I wore — and she was such a good cook. Some of her friends won ribbons and prizes, and we knew she would fare even better, but she wouldn’t enter.

I don’t know how old I was when the fair became such a momentous event in my life. I have no memory of it until I was at least four or five years old. At that age I would have had to have an adult walking around with me, and that’s something my mother rarely had time to do — she worked long hours and, besides that, avoided crowded venues like the plague, especially outdoorsy ones that involved sawdust and dirt and animal smells. Mamaw took me and my older brother at least once. Even though I couldn’t ride many of the rides when I was small, it was fun with her because she pointed out all the canned goods and other foods and crafts to me. It was fun looking at the animals with her, too, because she knew so much about them.

By the time I was in third grade, my brother and I were dropped off and left to do our worst for about three hours. He never stayed with me, but I always had friends there to run with from ride to ride, which was what it was all about by that point. Well, other than getting a candy apple, cotton candy, sodas, and anything else we could afford and still have money to ride.

I vividly remember when the ride aspect of the fair came to a screeching halt as far as I was concerned. In sixth grade, suddenly, I could no longer abide anything that went fast and in circles. That fateful night the Scrambler was kinda OK, but the Tilt-a-Whirl nearly made me lose my supper. Then the tiny, confined, spinning cage of the Rock-o-Plane finished the job. Just after getting off the thing, right in front of a “boyfriend,” I tossed my cookies, so to speak. Yucky and embarrassing to boot. I have resented my touchy stomach ever since.

Luckily, junior high brought me so many other interests that I no longer cared much about the county fair. From what I’ve observed at the fair here in Magnolia, tweens and younger kids are the ones who enjoy it most, so I guess my experience wasn’t that unusual.

About the same time I found out I couldn’t stomach round-and-round, I discovered roller coasters, like the monster ones at Astroworld in Houston and Six Flags in Dallas. I had relatives in both those places and spent some time with them most summers. Up and down didn’t bother me then, no matter the speed nor the height. Wahoo! I rode the old wooden roller coaster at Magic Springs (in Hot Springs) every time I got the chance until I found out that my spine was a mess, which put an end to my riding days altogether.

Our son was a thrill-seeker who would ride absolutely anything from the time he was tall enough to get on whatever-it-was. His dad always had to ride with him except for roller coasters, but I had no use for the new-fangled roller coasters that go upside-down and all that even before finding out I had spine issues. The last several times we went to amusement parks, I spent my time strictly as an observer. I still like going.

Nowadays, what I enjoy most about carnivals or the fair is watching Miss Lo on the dragon ride, the bumper cars, the carousel, and a few more of the tame rides. Here at our fair she is tickled half to death by Old McDonald’s Farm and some of the livestock exhibits. Last year, she had some artwork entered at the crafts building. In the next couple of years, maybe she’ll branch out and get on some of the faster-paced rides, but that’ll be up to her. She’s not much of a daredevil, thank goodness.

But, like her DeeDee, Miss Lo won’t be leaving the fair without some cotton candy. Some things just move from one generation to another.

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