How I Barely Survived the Wood County Fair

Javier and I had discussed going to the fair in BG and on the last day we ventured out to the fair grounds, a mere mile from our house.

The fair was a stamp-size version of the Pima County Fair with the same game booths where you can win a 10 foot, stuffed boa constrictor by plunking pennies into goldfish bowls; the same fried and sugar-saturated food (I overheard one girl ask her friend, "You want a deep-fried Snickers?"); the same livestock pens and craft competition barns; and a handful of the same rides.

Javier and I first looked at the "Fine Arts" barn where mostly young people had submitted artwork into various categories in the hopes of winning a ribbon. It was fun to see the photos, paintings, and drawings of so many students and reminded me of all the talented teenagers I've had the chance to work with.

We also went into the building the housed the gardening, baking, flower arrangement, quilting, etc. competition remnants. The "best of show" flower arrangement was a bouquet of white mums, red carnations, and pine boughs tucked into an ice skate for the "Father's Day" category. Halloween and Eeyore were common themes in the quilting/sewing area. We were somewhat confounded by the glass counters encasing pieces of bread, cake, and muffins that had been part of the baking competition four days prior.

After wandering through these buildings we bought 12 tickets for the rides. We started with the Orbiter, which looks like an octotpus with three suction cups (the cars) per arm and which whirls these cups around and up and down. As soon as the ride started I knew I had made a terrible mistake. Immediately my stomach lurched, I closed my eyes and realized I needed to go to a place of peace in my mind. What heightened the nausea was that every time our car swung down, we zoomed by the speaker which blared "Barbara Ann." Even more horrible than hearing the Beach Boys shrilling in my ears was that there were two false stops. The arms would start to slow, I would breathe normally, flex my hands which had been clamped to the metal safety bar, and then the arms would pick up speed again. When this happened the last time, frantic thoughts filled my head: What signal could I give (because the carnies obviously wouldn't be able to hear me scream "Stop!") to show them I wanted off? Was the ride stuck? Could I force myself to faint?

During this whole torturous time Javier also had his eyes closed but would laugh occasionally and say things like, "I don't want to be a pilot." When we finally stopped he had to help me out of the car and we made our wobbly way to a bench. After several minutes of trying to quell the waves in my stomach by taking deep breaths, I forfeited my remaining tickets to a young couple, we went to watch part of a 4-H auction, I ate a soft pretzel and Javier ate a chocolate dipped piece of key lime pie, and Javier declared our day divided into "Before the Orbiter" and "After the Orbiter."