Comments and Curiosities -- Peter Buffa

If it’s July, this must be the fair. That’s the 110th Orange County

Fair, thank you so much. Yes, it’s true. The first Orange County Fair

was held in 1890, which was a long time ago. (A few years were skipped

during wartime).

The world, which includes Orange County, was a much different place in

1890. Life was hard. Men were men. Women were women. Children were, I

don’t know, children.

People were strong. They never complained. They weren’t mamby-pamby

whiners like us. They ate red meat. They didn’t use sunscreen. They did

their own dental work. There was no deodorant. Men and women could wear

whatever color they wanted, as long as it was black.

The world was a grim, humorless place, and the first Orange County

Fair was no different. The Ferris wheel was operated by hand. There was

only one food booth and it served porridge. Even then, no one knew what

porridge was. They just ate it.

There were no pig races because they only had one pig. But what a

difference the years make. Today’s Orange County Fair is a wild, wacky,

wondrous E-ticket ride. Do you realize there’s now an entire generation

who have no idea what “E-ticket” means? OK, forget that.

The Orange County Fair is a slice of the past, a peek at the future

and a dash of everything in between. Each year’s fair has a slightly

cryptic theme, and this year is no exception. This year’s theme has to do

with frogs, leaping and water, sort of. The logo is a smiling frog and

the tag line is “Leap Into the Fair: We’re Making a Big Splash.” The frog

accounts for the “leaping,” and there is a lot of beach-water-sand stuff

happening this year -- ergo, the “Big Splash.”

There’s no way to describe or even mention everything you can see or

do, which is exactly the point. The fair is a nonstop, vertigo-inducing

kaleidoscope of sights and sounds and smells and tastes. This isn’t a

little bit of Americana. It’s every bit of Americana -- from the

Demolition Derby to the concerts, from the carnival rides to the

cholesterol, from the pigs to the petunias.

Speaking of the little porkers, is there anything more entertaining

than the All-Alaskan Racing Pigs? I think not. Where else can you watch

little pink pigs in their own little numbered vests streaking toward the

finish line? Nowhere, that’s where.

And what does “All-Alaskan” pigs mean, by the way? Does it mean they

race in Alaska, or they’re from Alaska? Are Alaskan pigs faster than pigs

from other states? Are there pigs that are part-Alaskan and

part-Floridian? I don’t get it.

But you see, it doesn’t matter. To fully experience the Fair, you

should ask as few questions as possible. It doesn’t matter where the

racing pigs come from. It only matters that they race and they wear their

little vests.

As a city creature, I’ve always been fascinated by farm animals,

mostly because I am profoundly ignorant about them. I’m still amazed that

people can reach underneath a cow, pull a few things and voila -- milk!

I’ve tried it, by the way, twice. Nothing, niente, not one drop. All I

did was embarrass myself and thoroughly annoy the cow. And answer me this

-- how do farmers know which cows have regular milk, which have 2% and

which have nonfat?

There’s also a lot of serious animal business going on here. The

livestock raised by youngsters in the 4-H and Future Farmers of America,

two outstanding programs, will be auctioned off on July 20, including,

according to my program, “market swine, calves, beef, sheep, goats,

rabbits, turkeys and broiler pens.” I assume “beef” means cows and bulls.

Calling pigs “swine” seems a little harsh, and I have no idea what

“broiler pens” means. Chickens, maybe.

There was very little 4-H activity in the Bronx. Speaking of the

Right Coast, it’s ironic though not interesting that just two weeks ago,

I was in the city where the first county fair in the U.S. was held --

Pittsfield, Mass. That first fair, called the “Berkshire Cattle Show,”

was held in Pittsfield in 1811.

If the critters don’t do it for you, the people-watching alone is

worth the price of admission. I always set aside a few minutes to arm

myself with a large carbonated beverage, find a shady spot, sit down and

watch the passing parade of humanity.

The people come in every age, size, and shape you can imagine, and

some you cannot. There are the beautiful people and the, umm,

not-so-beautiful. And the kids are a blast, of course. Laughing kids,

crying kids, and my personal favorite, kids getting the always effective

parent lecture about something or other. It brings back memories of the

parent lectures that I made long ago, which were every bit as effective

as my milking technique.

So that’s the deal. The Orange County Fair. 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 will last forever. Or at least until July

28. 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.