PETER BUFFA -- Comments & Curiosities

You can count on it, set your watch by it, even set your VCR by it,

assuming you know how. Let there be no doubt. If it’s July and it’s Costa

Mesa, it must be the Orange County Fair -- the 109th Orange County Fair,

just in case you’re counting.

The first Orange County Fair was in 1890, and the county was a very,

very different place. (For those of you doing the math, there were two

years during World War II when the fair was not held) You could walk

right into P.F. Chang, no waiting. Nordstrom’s yearly sale was once every

five years, and they only had two items -- hats and bag balm. There was

only one channel of ESPN. Are you going to laugh at any of this, or am I

talking to myself here?

Anyway, is there anything more wild and woolly than the fair? It’s

possible, but I doubt it. It is a breathtaking kaleidoscope of sights and

sounds, smells and tastes that seem to get more diverse and intense every

year. Look me in the eye and tell me you can lead a full life without

this stuff, I dare you.

The All-Alaskan Racing Pigs, Doggies of the Wild West, strolling

elephants, bowling grapefruits and a petting zoo bursting with animals

who will clean out your pockets quicker than a team of Gypsies on the

Paris metro. Add to that, a staggering array of exhibits, stage shows and

demonstrations of everything from glass blowing to milking a cow. I’ve

tried milking a cow twice, by the way. Nothing, nada, not a drop. All I

did was embarrass myself and annoy the cow.

By the way, something new this year that you cannot miss, no way, no

how, is the “We Love Lucy” exhibit. You’ve got to see this. And don’t

tell me you couldn’t find it, you didn’t have time, you don’t like the

fair, your sciatica was acting up or some other wimpy excuse. Get out

there and see it. In fact, go now. Don’t even finish reading this. It’s

not that funny anyway.

For a mere $3 ticket, you’ll see all the “I Love Lucy” sets, along

with some props and a few costumes from classic “Lucy” routines. There

are TV monitors playing classic episodes -- “Vitameatavegamin,” “The

Chocolate Factory,” etc.

But the biggest thrill, assuming you’re not one of those annoying

people who are too young to wrinkle, is to stand a few feet from the

Ricky and Lucy sets you’ve seen a thousand times. The living room, the

kitchen, the Hollywood apartment with a view of Graumann’s Chinese

Theater and the Roosevelt Hotel out the window, and even Club Babaloo,

complete with phony palm trees, music stands and all.

Speaking of history, due to overwhelming popular demand (OK, two

people asked) here is, once again, the complete history of county fairs

in the western world. “Fair” comes from the Latin “feriae,” which means

“to park really, really far away.” No, it doesn’t. I made that up.

“Feriae” means “feast.” Originally, a fair meant a “market day,” when

farmers and purveyors of whatever people purveyed in those days got

together to purvey.

In this country, there have been references to “going to the fair”

since 1638. By 1800, a fair meant a periodic market and exhibition. If

you were to hop in your time machine and check one out, things would look

fairly (get it -- “fairly?”) recognizable, except the people would be

wearing really funny clothes. Of course, they’d take one look at you,

give you a trial that lasted about four minutes, then drag you out back

and stone you for being a demon.

The first annual fair in the U.S. was the Berkshire Cattle Show, which

began in Pittsfield, Mass., in 1810. People came from all over. They

looked at the cows. The cows looked at them. The people ate pie. The cows

ate grass. It was a simpler time.

The first state fair was held in Syracuse, N.Y., in 1841. It didn’t

take long for state fairs to take a quantum leap forward and become

world’s fairs and expositions. The first was the 1853 New York World’s

Fair, held in what is now Bryant’s Park, next to the Main Library on 5th

Avenue. It cost $640,000. The World’s Fair, not the library. It’s hard

for us to appreciate what a staggering sum that was at the time. That

$640,000 in 1853 could buy a whole lot of bag balm.

The world’s fair concept grew like topsy. Philadelphia’s 1876

Centennial Exposition introduced Mr. Bell’s telephone, a thing called the

typewriter, and an exotic fruit called the banana, which was an instant

hit, but pricey at 10 cents each.

The long lines at Chicago’s Columbian Exposition in 1893 were for Mr.

Westinghouse’s electric engine and Tom Edison’s new and improved electric

light bulb.

The 1939 New York World’s Fair, dubbed the “World of Tomorrow,” was

arguably the most important of all. It really was opening day in the game

of modern technology, including television, Robby the robot and synthetic

fibers like nylon and rayon. Without polyester, life would be impossible.

But aside from the mega-monster world’s fairs, for most people the

annual state or county fair was the social and civic event of the year.

Remember, this was largely a farming society well into the 20th century.

Spending 16 hours a day doing really hard things, going home to a mud

house with a dirt floor and crawling into a straw bed at 7 p.m. to get up

at 3:30 a.m. and do the whole thing over again makes you keenly

interested in when the fair is coming back.

So do what those farmer people did. Get everybody cleaned up, throw

the kids in the SUV, and head for the fair. It’s fun, it’s fattening,

it’s flaky and it’s a little bit of Americana. I gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs Sundays.

He may be reached via e-mail at PtrB4@aol.com.