By Mark David Blum, Esq.
One of the best parts of the Fair ambiance is the ability to just let go. Buried in the milieu of the moving mass of humanity, it is nearly impossible to stand out. Because of the chaos abound, it is very easy to drop the pretence of adulthood and maturation and let the inner child come out to play. I can set aside the dispassionate, reserved, objective mannerisms of adulthood and focus instead on being a brat.
Being a Fair Brat does not mean I am rude, abrasive, or offensive. Being a kid at heart does not invite the right to forgo humanity or to treat others with respect. Rather, it means instead that I ask too many questions, try things meant to be off limits, move security gates to get to where I want to be, and of course be barefoot and wholly unlawyerly. I get to attend to my Id, ignore my Superego, and let the resulting impish ego driven impulses rule the day.
Every day starts out the same. I arrive and enter and quickly kick off my shoes and immediately scan the environs for a place to start my trek. As the day progresses, I slowly slide backwards into childhood fantasies and start to feel the experience as through the eyes of a wide eyed child.
Even the simplest of things can be great sources of entertainment. Ferinstance, this year among the street performers are a couple of dragons. Well trained persons on stilts with amazing costumes, makeup, and moving parts put on a neat little show. Like the smallest of persons and youngest of minds, I have come completely engrossed in their performance. I study them, watch them move the levers and handles that make the dragons move and dance. In my heart, I seriously envious of both their skill and the fun they must be having. How the performers can maintain their stoic looks while teasing and taunting an audience is quite impressive. Alas, if only I had some talent (though it wouldn’t matter because Dan O’Hara would rather eat his own vomit that give me access to the Fair).
As I walk down the streets, I gather up stray red rubber balls that seem to be everywhere. Over the years my collection of red rubber balls is large enough that I could start my own game. The fun is in the hunt and finding one of the balls is a major coup for me. Yeah I know, it sure doesn’t take much to entertain me but the joy as I said is in the hunt. Its like finding money on the ground at the Fair. In an environment where money is king and everybody is hustling for every dollar, I do find money. But it is the red rubber balls that are the most difficult to acquire. Kids love toys, boys love balls and well, you get the rest.
Being child like and more importantly carefree brings out the best in the Fair. I don’t need food or concerts or demonstrations to entertain me. I just need the crowd. What I don’t need is for friends (who I admire and love) to come up to me and start whining about adult things. I was approached by a friend who works for Onondaga County and instead of sharing the joys of the Fair, he subjected me to a tirade how the County Executive is going to either slash payroll for county employees or is going to mandate unpaid time off. Talk about your major buzzkill. My heart sympathizes for the loss of benefits and the financial hardship. But jeez Louise, this is the Fair and not a place to complain and whine. He wanted my help to fight off management’s intentions and of course I promised him I would help – but not at the Fair. Its just not fair.
Being an adult child at the Fair means you can play with adults and they don’t even know they are part of your game. State Troopers meander about and keep the peace while walking in pairs. When I see two of them coming toward me, rather than change course I hold steady just to see the two of them separate to let me walk through. I respect their willingness to surrender and let me pass. It is not a game of power and control but rather an impish desire to play chicken.
I got a good childish game going on with my dear friend George Kilpatrick. He was broadcasting his WCNY show from the Fair and he was live. As he was just about to go on the air, I saw him walking back toward his seat. Just as he sat down and started to talk, I began jumping up and down and waving my arms. Obviously he couldn't see me behind his back and I am sure the director made sure I was not in the shot. But as they say, it is the thought that counts.
If you want to understand my perspective, you have to be willing to exercise a certain amount of risk taking bravado. There is a game, actually many, on the Midway that involves firing a water pistol at a target. Competing with others, the water pistol makes a balloon blow up or some critter move up a pole. The winner is the first one who completes the task. Obviously the game requires skill and coordination to make sure every droplet from the squirt gun hits its target so as to move things along faster. But if you are me and want to get more fun out of the game, when the water comes on don’t even aim at the target. Take aim at the carny barker who drew you into the game in the first place. You wont win but it will be the best 2 bucks you spend at the Fair.
To be fair to the Fair, Dan O’Hara has really made a monumental effort at keeping the peace. There is little that is adult oriented, plenty to see and do for all ages, and a few things that are for the young. It is well organized and tightly controlled. Trying to have a child’s fun while wearing an adult’s skin can be quite challenging. But then again, if not for the challenge, why bother going?
