I have had more than a few conversations with folks at the Fair … with the regulars starting to ask me where I work. They see me all day every day and figure like most who fit that profile, I must have a job at the Fair. Nothing short of incredulity explodes from their faces when I tell how I love the Fair to the point that I come all day, every day, just to be at the Fair, and for no other reason that just to become one with the event.

It was only the third day of the Fair when I drove into the gate and the guy who keeps waiving me through said, “only nine more days of this.” Quickly, I reminded him that only 362 days remain until the 2007 Fair and to quit his whining.

Normally by the third or fourth day of the Fair, having been there all day, every day, my body starts to remind me of the toll being taken upon my aging and weary bones and muscles. There comes a point when despite the lust in my heart and ache in my loins, my body says “No Mas” and I throw in the towel. This morning was just such a morning; I got out of bed long enough to post my stories, eat, and then go take a nap. The energy required to shuffle from one room to the next was just too much for this old man. I needed my rest for my hot date that night.

All day long however, I have had this muse screaming in my ear about the Great Fair story yet to be written. I know exactly what that story is and how to go about getting it. Having spent most of the day pondering the possibilities, I am going to have to pass. I just cannot do what is required to get the story.

You see, in my opinion, the Fair is supposed to be a representative microcosm of all that is New York State. It is the one time when the People come together to scarf up and stare in wonder and amazement at the people we have become and the gluttonies that will drive the next generations.

The Fair, without a doubt, has its’ share of loonies. I count myself as being among them. Just as there are on the streets of any given town or city, crazy people for whom conventional rules do not apply, so too at the Fair do I find it possible for me to let go of all those constraints that hold me in place in the real world.

All day long, however, I have been wondering about the homeless. Tremendous pain spreads throughout my legs and back from all the walking I have done in just four days. ‘All day, every day. Query: What must it feel like to someone who has to walk all day every day, 365 days a year. Just like at the Fair, the homeless just cannot sit down and relax in someone’s space. Sit down at a game booth or restaurant at the Fair and don’t patronize them and see how long you can remain. Eventually you have to keep moving. What about at night? I don’t have a job at the Fair that allows me to sleep there, so every night I come home and crawl into my warm bed with my Mrs.

The homeless in New York enjoy no such luxury. How would they do at the Fair? Is it possible to exist at the Fair as a homeless person? Could you eat, find shelter, manage to carry your worldly belongings with you all day, and survive the nights? All over New York and the rest of the Nation, millions of people have to live like this every single day of their lives. I pondered trying it for three days.

This morning, I was about to roll up a lightweight blanket, a jacket, a long pair of pants and a warm shirt, don my regular Fair clothes, and spend the next three days seeing how I would survive with no money and no pre-arranged shelter. Could I find enough free samples, abandoned edible food, and generosity of vendors to avoid hunger? Would the police chase me out of comfortable places in the parks and off the benches? If I had no identification, would I be arrested? Could I even try and get some sleep before 2 or 3 in the morning? There are showers and bathrooms so that would not be too much of a problem; though such is not the case in the real world, so I intended to avoid showers. I was even going to avoid using public restrooms when I could for the same reason.

I really wanted to try this experiment and document my experiences. The thought however of spending three days in such conditions sounded extremely onerous. It is more of a task than I was willing to do by myself. I cannot risk arrest because of my professional license. Somehow, I think I got my ‘one free walk’. That is too bad, because I truly believe that if the Fair is going to show off all that is New York, it should similarly face up to its responsibilities to its citizens.

The story would be fantastic. I wish I could write it. Somebody should.