State Fair

We had an amusing time at the State Fair over the weekend. I wouldn't really go so far as to say that our State Fair is the Best State Fair - or even a Great State Fair - but it is a funny one. From the 4-H participants and the Grange entries - produce, canned goods, photography and other 'art', sewing projects, flowers, lop-eared bunnies and cavies and chickens - the demonstrations and judging, where the kids (usually) get to show off their dog obedience training (some good, some not so much) and the size of their pigs - the whole thing just puts a smile on our faces.

One little girl was going to demonstrate how to make miniature 'burgers' out of vanilla wafers (for the buns) and chocolate mints and colored icing and coconut (mustard yellow, ketchup red and lettuce green) and her mother was so desperate to have an audience for her that I got nailed and couldn't walk away until she'd done the WHOLE thing. Mark wandered around the rest of the hall and made faces at me, the captive audience, but I wasn't going to let the little girl down! The Master Gardeners seemed to think we weren't getting enough 'brown' in our compost and the guy holding the reins for a very small horse thought there were probably some smaller horses, somewhere... yes, a lot to smile about.

But getting back to the judging...

They had cats. In several groups. Of course we couldn't resist. They seemed to be common household 'alley' cats, but they were being 'judged' anyway, so we stopped to watch. One group was just done and several people came forward to retrieve those cats and return them to their waiting cages so that the judging cages could be cleaned for the next group. Among the cat owners was a rather big guy in an inadequately sized t-shirt and big-jeans-with-no-belt who showed a little too much belly underneath from the front when he retrieved his cat. We sat down in the front row (maybe smiling a little over that but certainly maintaining some level of decorum) just in front of the judging table and the row of cages behind them that was facing us... and just as we got settled this same guy returned with another cat for the judging... turned his back to us, bent over to place the cat in the cage... right in front of us, mind you... and...

I really don't know how to tell the story. Handling cats is a dicey business and I can see where one wouldn't want to let go of the cat to adjust one's pants but nevertheless you'd think he'd have noticed that they had slipped so low that they were completely below the parts they were designed to cover. And you'd think he'd have noticed the sudden 'wind at his back' when he bent over to put the cat in its cage. He certainly didn't SEEM to notice. Mercifully, he had underwear on. Not boxers, mind you, but at least some full cotton briefs. Army green colored. To match his t-shirt. But I'd be remiss if "full" seemed to imply that coverage was adequate. Not to put too fine a point on it, but 4-5 inches of, well... Oh dear.

And there we were - not 4 feet from him. Sitting on little folding chairs right in front of the judging table we were, where another unlucky participant also had a front-row seat. This lady evidently knew the fellow though because after a pause in which she obviously wondered if maybe no one else had noticed - and in which she must have caught the looks on our faces, Mark's and mine, and realized that the cat, so to speak, was out of the bag - she said his name and remarked that it was a nice thing that his underwear matched his shirt. Without missing a beat - and still displaying his 'altogether' unabashedly while he fussed with his cat - he shot right back with "I did that for you."

The cat finally got settled in the cage and the fellow made a retreat, groping for the waistband of his pants which was, by now, completely out of range for him.

And we got the giggles.

Understand now, that Mark's sense of humor is pretty automatic. Certain things trigger certain responses and the 'crack of doom' as he calls it is one of those things that, in his view, is always funny.

He started singing "Blue Moon" under his breath.

We had to make a hasty retreat.

And you know - Mark is right. Some 30 hours later and it is STILL funny.