See and be seen at the Orange County Fair

B.W. COOK

“Today is gone and past, and tomorrow is a million miles away,” said

Mark Yuzuik, the hip hypnotist appearing on the Sun Stage at the

Orange County Fair in Costa Mesa.

Some 13 volunteer subjects, pulled from the overflow audience,

listened to his every word. Soon they were in a trance, their bodies

limp in their chairs on stage.

The crowd went wild, especially when one “victim” named June --

clearly the star of the show -- rose from the dead to sing the Oscar

Mayer theme song ... in Japanese. She added her own version of a

Gypsy Rose Lee-inspired bump and grind dance. Hot dogs never were

sold with such style.

It was just another mid-week night at the Orange County Fair, a

tradition that has survived all the social and cultural change -- or

perhaps more accurately stated, upheaval -- during its long run,

spanning much of the 20th century and moving into the 21st.

So it was as Yuzuik said, a place where tomorrow is a million

miles away, a place without cares or worries, a place to connect with

youthful fantasy, and a place to buy the best slicer-dicer known to

man, or better yet, an electronic foot massager called Medi-Rub that

will get the circulation going like never before.

The fair is the place to be and to be seen through July 31. It’s

the social mecca in Newport-Mesa for all ages. All socioeconomic

barriers, real or imagined, are out the window for a few brief weeks

in summertime as the crowd mixes and mingles with farm animals, eats

corn-on-the-cob -- grilled, of course -- and samples deep fried

avocados.

That’s part of this season’s theme -- avocados, that is. Deep

frying just seems like the proper thing to do at a fair. Two years

ago, they introduced the deep fried Twinkie. Avocado seemed like a

healthier, natural advancement from Twinkies.

“Pigs. I just love the pigs more than anything at the fair,” said

Laguna Beach resident Nancy Treadway, attending the fair with

girlfriends Aida Hobson of Newport Beach and Cindy Mac Farland of

Costa Mesa.

The women shared a glass of wine and a deep fried onion from the

Chuck Wagon before heading over to visit the newborn piglets.

“They just crack me up,” said Treadway, a senior escrow officer at

Franklin Financial in Corona del Mar. “It’s amazing to watch them;

they’re like little juveniles -- kind of a reflection on all of us, I

guess.”

“Well, maybe some of us!” she added with a giggle.

Across the Centennial Farm, with its bounty of growing crops, lies

the Petting Zoo. It’s my favorite attraction. If you ever questioned

the authenticity of the story of Noah, just drop in at the Petting

Zoo.

Lido Isle residents Gary and Sharon Grimes were caught petting a

pot-bellied pig, a couple of goats and one big tall llama. The

Grimes’ daughter, Taylor, a recent Newport Harbor High School grad

who will be a freshman at Stanford University in the fall, joined in

the zoo experience with her boyfriend, John Sampson, visiting from

New Jersey.

I made them hug the llama -- the perfect photo opportunity for an

overly aggressive society columnist intent on making a statement.

“Farm animals are not politically correct,” said Sharon Grimes, a

real estate agent with Coldwell Banker/Previews in Newport Beach. “I

grew up on a farm. They know who they are; no identity crisis there!”

As the lights dimmed on the zoo and all the people headed for the

rides, shows and exhibitions, the animals cozied up, two by two,

species by species, and went to sleep in the hay.

The night was still young for the midway barkers. The Ferris

wheels kept revolving, and the elephant continued to ferry children

in circles.

Over in the fair exhibition buildings, salesmen sold spas and

jewelry. Local art was on display. Candy vendors passed out

jellybeans, horticulturists offered plumeria plants from Hawaii, and

furniture reps pushed rosewood dining tables.

For those who were unable to catch the All Alaskan Racing Pigs,

the Port City Washboard Wizards, the Terry Hanck Band or the Russell

Brothers Circus, international singing star Julio Iglesias was

singing live in the Pacific Amphitheater. Now that’s quite a diverse

selection.

One final destination on this night of fair frolicking: The

cinnamon roll booth beckoned. The aroma was all around. The cinnamon

roll (with frosting and nuts) was the perfect end to a night in Costa

Mesa.

The hypnotist was right. Tomorrow was surely a million miles away.

* THE CROWD appears Thursdays and Saturdays.