My sisters know what comes next. " veritable smorgasbord..." This is from the classic animated film, Charlotte's Web (not the new live action version). It's the song that the barnyard animals sing to Templeton (and then he sings himself) to convince him that the task Charlotte has for him -- being sent to the fairgrounds to find a word to best describe Wilbur -- is a great job for a rat. Why all the children's literature trivia, you ask? It's because this past weekend we went to the 137th Annual Caledonia Fair. So, obviously, my children have had to listen to me sing this song ad nauseum, this week. It almost seems appropriate that the fair happened this week. About a week ago, we learned that one of our favorite contemporary American authors, David Foster Wallace, had ended his own life. If you've not been privileged to read any DFW - try to get your hands on one of his collections of essays - either, "Consider the Lobster" or "A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again." You might also Google his commencement address from Kenyon College a few years ago. But I digress. In the collection, "A Supposedly Fun Thing..." One of the "supposedly fun things" that he never planned to do again, was go to the Illinois State Fair. DFW deftly describes the two sides of a fair: the Carnie side and the Ag side. The Caledonia Fair had both. First, we wandered around in the Exhibition Hall. Aidan had a habitat poster and a "good penmanship" entry, but, alas, did not earn a ribbon. The Exhibition Hall is a wonderful display of the lost domestic arts. Well, not lost really, from the looks of the Hall. We saw exquisite examples of needlework, hand-smocking, quilting, crocheted lace, and hand-crafted jewelry. Aidan was pleased to see that there was a prize-winning Lego creation displayed. We didn't know this was an option and, truthfully, (and no offense to the Lego winner or his mother) but it was a project Aidan could have done blindfolded with one hand behind his back. We'll be entering next year! There were preserves and baked goods that were beautiful (and I assume tasty). A gentleman in our church won for his pickled beets and he proudly announced in church, while decked out in his choir robe, that he had beaten another parishioner who had bested him the year before! There was a 716 pound pumpkin that surpassed the weight of the second place pumpkin by more than double. Some of the displays that I found most puzzling were the champion bags of seeds, bales of hay, and ears of corn. Apparently each of these has it's own judging standards: even rows of kernels, no discoloration, no musty odor, no bugs (a given, I think). They all looked the same to my untrained eye, but I'm sure that they were a labor of love for their masters. After the Exhibition Hall we visited the animal barns. Naturally we were treated to the "Best Duck" and "Best Rabbit". We saw furry Galloway cattle and cockerel poultry with wonderful plumes of feathers on their heads. If you've ever seen pictures of women dressed in outrageous hats for Ascot, that just about describes the cockerels. This side of the fair leaves one pretty nostalgic for the simpler life. Then comes the midway. The Carnies that work the midway look like this is the very last thing they want to be doing with their lives. It actually made us a little sad -- the ride and game operators appeared to be listless drifters with no joy for their work. Last summer we went to Disneyland and the contrast between the ride operators at Disney and the carnies couldn't be more extreme. Somehow no one ever pushed them to discover their gifts and their calling and now they are in a turn-key job without a sense of place -- moving from one small town to the next. The kids, of course, loved the midway, joyless carnival workers or not. I was just hoping that I was being a responsible parent and that I wouldn't end up on the evening news -- victim of a freak carnival accident. In between, we sampled hand-dipped corn dogs, heard some earnest fiddlers and singers of Contemporary Christian music, and dodged the lure of the game stall operators. (Well, almost -- I did plunk down $5 to let Patrick handle a machine gun in an attempt to win a giant stuffed something.) The game stall operators reminded me of the wayward woman from the book of Proverbs -- calling to young men in the streets to make them veer from the righteous path. All good things must come to an end and when we had admired the last cow and pumpkin and spent our last ride ticket, we exited the fair. Until next year. All together now: "Oh, wow, look at him now. Zuckerman's Famous Pig!"