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If you live or spend enough time in the USA, you might get the chance to experience what is known as a “state fair.” I’ve only been to the one in Wisconsin, so I cannot speak for the other states. But, I assume every state fair features a variety of the local restaurant options, some form of animals-yet-to-be-slaughtered-for-food-or-lab-testing, music, magic and comedy acts, some sort of parade and plenty of places to dance, drink and smoke the night away. If I’m wrong, then that’s just the Wisconsin State Fair, and what exactly are the other states doing? [Heh.]

There is something intoxicating and equally unsettling about the (Wisconsin) State Fair. [And, I’ll come right out and say it’s not a place for prim vegetarians/vegans; they’d feel like a nun at a biker bar.]

From the moment I pass through the front (or side) gates, I feel like I’ve just walked into an over-crowded amusement park and struggle to retain my sense of direction. Sure, I can bring or get a map with relative ease, but my head still spins as I try to decide where to turn first. People around me are busy yakking, stuffing their faces and essentially ignoring anyone outside their little bubbles of awareness. So, if I’m not careful, someone could step on my foot or knock me down with the arm holding their cotton candy or deep-fried cow poop on a stick. [Don’t worry; they haven’t actually crafted that one, yet. It was just a little joke from a place where everything is sold on a small, wooden, easily broken stick.]

And, even if I come with someone else, I have to keep close watch on them, lest they become lost in the surging crowd. You’ve got to keep your wits about you at the Fair. Pay attention to the shady and sunny spots; avoid the sun whenever possible to protect your health. But, also, mind the shady spots, lest you lose your wealth. Watch your wallet and your companions, and keep moving (unless you are lucky enough to find a safe place to sit).

Let’s just pause right there and talk about safe places to sit. If you see TV footage of the Fair, you might find people sitting in the sun, wearing sunglasses, hopefully applying sunscreen (lotion), looking happy and content. But, that’s far from the reality (unless your family is somehow blessed with being impervious to sun damage).

The truth is the Wisconsin summer sun can be quite brutal. Humidity–paired with body heat and steam from all of the places cooking, frying, enflaming and otherwise boiling food to feed the restless, careless masses–is both agitating and draining. So, if you’re smart, bring a small misting bottle to keep spraying yourself down with water (and refill it every chance you get when you see a “bubbler”/drinking fountain). Also, bring a canteen/water bottle and refill that, too. Remember what I said about keeping your wits? Try to keep the bottles out of direct sunlight, even if you think you are smart by putting ice in them, to avoid creating a hot-water bottle. [Good luck with that at the peak of summer.]

Now, add a current health crisis to the mix and the sheer madness of extroverted people (people who cannot stand another minute by themselves indoors) bent on promoted alcoholism and generally rowdy behavior. [Some of that has come from the Texas invasion; Texas has injected so much of itself into Wisconsin that one begins to think Wisconsin is the southern state’s summer home or winter retreat.] When people are supposed to be cautious about minding their distance and wearing masks, you can expect plenty of stupidity in Wisconsin. [Good luck with that, too.]

So, if you see someone who looks ill/intoxicated and sunburnt, that’s just a typical fool from Wisconsin. [You might want to steer clear of them unless you came with them or wish to play doctor.]

Noise comes and goes in waves. One minute, you hear some stage blaring rock music so loud that you fear going deaf; you can hardly shout loud enough for anyone to hear you. If you cannot communicate with your neighbors/companions, you’re in trouble. The next minute, you step into surreal silence and wonder where all of the commotion went. Yet, wait another minute, and you’ll be back at risk of getting trampled by the next wave of careless pedestrians, yakking, stuffing their faces, smoking, sipping alcohol and generally ignoring everything around them.

If you venture far enough in one direction, you’ll find the somewhat unclear animal region of the Fair, where barns and other buildings house collections of various species. Most of the featured animals are potential ingredients in the foods you may sample at the fair. And, if that’s not unsettling enough (especially for anyone who chooses to forego meat), the other non-food (if that’s even possible) animals look like sad spectacles trapped in cages. Sure, it’s nice to see some that are well groomed and wonder how many species of pigeon exist in the state. But, look around long enough, and you might start to feel like you’re caged, yourself, surrounded by prisoners, some on route to becoming someone’s next meal.

Oddly enough, I think I’ve seen just about every species of animal at the Fair except for cats. There has been the occasional dog show. Rabbits even picked up a little space to race and perform. Birds, cows, sheep, horses…even camels…check. The odd reptile exhibit (more like a bad sideshow). Maybe not giraffes, monkeys (unless they are riding on performers’ shoulders) or elephants, which are typically found at the zoo and saved for the circus. But, I don’t recall ever seeing a cat section or building. I guess most people in need of the Fair are cat people and don’t need to see creatures that resemble their roommates. [So, they come to watch dogs jump in a pool?] And, obviously, fish tanks would be a disaster in a space where the sun is too often too hot and the A/C is too cold.

If you venture far enough in the other direction, you reach a big building that houses a mad assortment of vendors taking advantage of an air-conditioned environment. You’ll thank the gods for the cool air…shortly before you crave warmer clothing (if you have any exposed skin). And, if you have friends or family like mine, you’ll likely be subjecting yourself to mindless wandering and gawking at stuff and sales-pitch folks on microphones for the next few hours, forgetting what time it is until you step back outside into the humidity and wonder where the day went.

[That’s a good way to waste your ticket; get stuck at the “expo center” for four hours or more when special events** unfold at the fair, every hour, scattered around the grounds. You miss out on contests, stage shows, parades and special food sales. So, if you ever come to the Wisconsin State Fair–or any state fair–avoid the big building unless you just stop there to cool off and use a restroom. But, if you’re a tourist looking for T-shirts and the like, go ahead and look around, skipping right past all of the window, bedroom, sports and hot-tub vendors; the crowd is slightly thinner and nicer than the one outside.]

**What do I mean by “special events?” Well, there is a seemingly boundless array of daily activities, and, among those (which seem to ALWAYS be happening, every day, at a set schedule) are a few which stand out because they might only be for a day, a few days or special time of day. There are shows performed by people of various cultures (typically in the shadowy parts of the Fair often overlooked by the carelessly roaming/feasting visitors, and often after sunset). There are rare races to be observed…some less exciting than they sound in the pamphlets/guidebooks. There is occasionally a scavenger hunt to be pursued; I’ve never completed one…so I can’t say what the reward is at the end…perhaps just filling your booklet with pen marks? There are rare eating contests, some attended by “local celebrities;” usually they take place early in the day, when the local news likes to spotlight the Fair and their own employees for promotional materials which flood TV screens until the next season or festival arrives. ‘Plenty of spectacles to be witnessed and questioned as the late summer sun begins to fry your skin, causing some to wonder why they smell food (when it’s just you sizzling). And, there are the evening shows on the “big stage,” which only happen once; you get one chance to see one act one night before it’s gone. And, hopefully, you bought your tickets well in advance (or are fortunate enough to navigate the promotional maze of other methods for acquiring tickets, such as radio-station schemes…for anyone that still listens to broadcast radio).

[Now, just imagine spending a half a day in an air-conditioned building, listening to sales pitches and walking past countless collections of STUFF, leaving the Fair–because you’re out of time–and then looking back at the guidebook, seeing all the stuff you didn’t experience. Or, maybe you just don’t care about anything but shopping; how sad and discouraging.]

[This sort of thing doesn’t just happen in summer; many of the same vendors return seasonally for different “festivals.” It’s exciting and new to visitors from outside Wisconsin. But, for residents, it’s kind of like crappy television littered with infomercials. I just want to flip channels until I find something unique and of interest.]

[When I was a kid, I didn’t get the freedom to explore enough and see everything; so there was always something mysterious to find in the “expo hall.” But, as an adult, I quickly realize(d) the “mystery” wasn’t worth exploring. It’s just a lot of “swag”…and the occasional ice-cream-treat surprise.]

Of course, in Wisconsin, intoxication is highly promoted, even though “safe driving” is also promoted. Bars are on every corner of the “lesser” neighborhoods. The same goes at the Fair. Look around, and you’re sure to spot a neon sign, waiting to light up (at night), for some place selling alcoholic beverages.

[If you don’t drink, you’re a…what’s a nice word for coward? I don’t know. So, I guess I’m a coward. And, if you’re a coward, you should feel right at home in Wisconsin, where cows are mascots (just not mascots for any of the sports teams, oddly enough).]

What time is it? How long have I been talking? I’ve already forgotten. And, what have we all missed? Let’s look at the Fair’s guidebook, coupon book and other promotional materials (most of which are purchased prior to the Fair or at the entrance)… Yep. I missed that, that and the other one. Great. So, pitch those in the nearest trash bin, watch out for the pooping animals on parade (wherever they’re headed) and try to salvage the rest of my time at the Fair.

[You know that Lady Gaga song, Just Dance? That’s how I feel, at some point, at the Fair. I feel drunk (though perfectly sober), lost and confused. And, part of me says I should just keep moving (dancing) until I reach an exit.]

Maybe it’s just my choice of companions. [Sadly, I cannot choose my family. They’re just there.] But, I don’t get my fill…ever…at the Fair. There’s just never enough time or freedom to think clearly. And, it doesn’t help knowing each day has different specials to experience…when you might only be able to visit one particular day, usually the day that doesn’t have the most favored features/events. Timing is everything…except for the weather and crowds; that’s a whole other ball of wax.

[Even if you have an excess of money to “blow,” you need to pick and choose (plan) your directions wisely to get the most out of a day at the Fair; otherwise, you just get a glimpse and probably don’t give a damn about what you’re doing other than impressing a date.]

Typically, my “group” leaves the Fair after sunset, when the lights turn on and the sky looks amazing. I’ve left amusement parks at night, like this, and the feeling is both stimulating and depressing. One part of me is just elated to be there in the moment…and the other is distraught because I have to leave. That, too, is like being doped up or intoxicated. It’s a high you don’t want to stop. But, it must stop. You must stop and leave the madness behind.

There’s a stark difference between the day and night life at the Fair. Just about everything that was available during the day remains at night. But, the general vibe/energy of the Fair shifts. Animals take a back seat or get put down (TO SLEEP…to sleep). [Hey. What happened to that cow I liked? Oh… I think I’ll skip that special hamburger.] And, things you might have overlooked in broad daylight suddenly emerge from the shadows (while other things and people disappear into the new shadows). The carnival/games section of the Fair certainly becomes more appealing and tempting. Comedy and other stage shows take on new life after dark.

[Daylight stage shows feel more like costly distractions for young families just looking for a place to get out of the sun and bind their obnoxious children to the ground for thirty minutes, without having to fork over more money for sugary treats.]

When you finally escape the noise and crowds and slip past the exit gates, you might feel a need to check your pockets, your bag(s) and struggle to recall if you achieved everything you had hoped to experience. If you’re like me, most likely, you come up short. Something is missing (lost or stolen). And, you feel like you put a wad of money on a bar counter or poker table just to come away at a loss.

Strangely, there’s a tiny spark left inside you, urging you to return, just like the watchful bartender who might look at you as you leave his/her establishment and casually say, “Thanks. Come again.”

…Just dance…it will be okay…do-do-do-do…just just just dance…