Midway

Dear Chris,

I took the kids to our county fair this past weekend. They had a blast. I blew too much money. But there is something about this fair. We sat at a picnic table eating food from buggy vendors. A country band played over by the grandstand, overlapping with the music of the auctioneer's call, as the 4-H rabbits and chickens were being auctioned to local businesses.

The heat of the day subsided into a warm evening with just enough of a breeze. Young people were filtering in with the darkness, strolling around the midway. Chickies on the make with their tiny denim shorts and flip flops. Guys looking for girls, with new t-shirts and smelling of too much cologne. It's the biggest event of the summer for kids who live miles from town. Twenty one years ago I was strolling the same midway wearing a fourth-runner-up-to-junior-fair-queen sash and a denim mini skirt, arm in arm with a brand new beau.

He was a wonderful "bad boy" two years older with an earring, and just kicked out of the Navy. (Though I hadn't learned that yet.) I drove my mother crazy with him for two years. I wondered. would I see him here? I didn't. And I'm glad. I am sure that time and poverty and drugs have taken their toll. And he will not resemble my first love at all.

I strolled now with my children, and watched as they called to their friends. My daughter found an ankle bracelet with dolphins and bells which jingles with each step she takes, and my son found a trick pack of gum which shocks people. (I offer to get shocked once a day so that he will not use it on other people.) I people watched, and tried to get cell phone pictures of the odd characters who show up at the fair. The carnies who run the rides all looked hot and tired and over-tanned as usual. I spent $10 on cotton candy.

Sarah