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.
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