J.J.'s Fair Blog: Day One

The calm before the storm

August 24, 2007

12:15 p.m.

Weather: Blah. Gray and moist.

Parking spot: In the Purple Lot, with less than 2 minutes to find a spot.

Admission lines: Minimal. In the gates in less than a minute.

Trail pace: A steady gallop. Freedom to move.

What always amazes me about the Alaska State Fair is the dedication of some of the annual vendors.

Since I was a kid I have loved the Husky Burger stand near the carnival midway.

I'm not much of a sweet tooth, so each year my meat-eating, lustful nature would lure me over to the Husky Burger and all of it's mayonnaisy goodness.

It's a drug, I tell you. There is something in those burgers.

I must have visited this stand at least 20 times since then (do the math and you're onto something very few are in on).

The one thing I noticed this year was that the burgers have gotten smaller as the years have gone by, a claim owner Joe Lentz dismisses.

I doubt my hands are getting bigger.

He told me Huskey's burgers have remained the same since 1962, minus the fact that he now uses a handmade press to make the rich, fatty goodness instead of pressing them by hand.

In any case, I looked around on the first day of 2007's fair and saw one booth after another, familiar face after another familiar face. It made me smile.

It's comforting. It's like coming home after a long term at college and seeing your old friends for the first time in months.

Tradition at the fair is important for those expecting to see and experience the one thing that brought them pleasure from fairs past.

Even the booths and events I down-right hate, I s till expect them to be present each year as well.

I'm no fan of kettle corn, yet there they are, smiling and popping away. What would I do if they were gone?

The farm exhibits? Not a huge fan, but I see why they come around each year. People like goats and things they don't normally get to touch. It's that easy. If you want a child to break down and collapse on the fairgorunds, tell them there are no bunnies or piggies to see. That'll do it.

Day one at the Alaska State Fair was wet and cold.

Big whoop, it's Alaska, folks.

I expected nothing less. Nothing more.

The crowds were small, the vendors were talkative, the noise level was off the charts. Vendors were even laughing and noticibly less pressured to push you out of the way for the next sorry sap. And the droll of walking … walking … walking, it just seemed less, well, aggravating.

I have a strange suspicion this will all be but a distant memory as the weekend approaches and the masses descend upon the Alaska State Fair.

Contact J.J. Harrier at valleylife@frontiersman.com, or call 352-2279