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Fair Games : ‘Fog Calling,’ Wine Tasting, Off-the-Wall Contests --S.F.’s Exhibition Is Far Removed From the Farm

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Times Staff Writer

A tall white lighthouse strode jauntily to the microphone and let out a plaintive, two-tone moo.

Well, not exactly a moo. And not exactly a real lighthouse.

On stage was Patrick (P. T.) Treadway, a thematically costumed contender--and ultimate second runner-up--in the Fog Calling Contest, one of a dozen offbeat events at the San Francisco Fair and Exhibition, which ends today.

For years, some spirited San Franciscans wondered why they should be deprived of a county fair just because their city doesn’t belong to a real county?

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No reason at all, they figured, so each year California’s only combination city-county holds a special kind of urbanized fair:

Days of Wine, Not Roses

Rather than judge jams and jellies, San Franciscans compare Chardonnays and cappuccinos. Old-time hootenanny is replaced by avant-garde theater. And cotton candy can’t compete with nouvelle cuisine and exotic ethnic snacks.

Traditional athletic events, such as the three-legged race, are forsaken in favor of the Walter Mitty Games: All contestants win an award and are showered with confetti and cheers after fantasizing at the sports of their choice.

To be sure, some elements of more traditional county fairs are to be found, from local crafts and folk art displays to magicians and stiltwalkers. But any “country” music to be heard is likely from a foreign country--a reflection of the city’s rich ethnic mix.

Most unusual, however, are the contests, which celebrate city living.

With the city noticeably deficient in pigs, for example, hog calling becomes fog calling. And shopping--already an art to some here--become a contest in the “Shoppers’ 500” race.

City residents also compete in such arcane urban pursuits as operatic lip-synching (in costume, of course), race-walking through the financial district (with newspaper and briefcase), and parking in four of the city’s impossibly crowded neighborhoods.

There is also a landlord-tenant tug-of-war to see who has the most “pull” in town, and a contest to judge the choreography of unlucky strap-hangers who stand in the aisles of crowded buses careening jerkily over the city’s famous hills.

“It’s a chance to have fun with everything we like--and maybe don’t like so much--about San Francisco,” said Linda Colnett, spokeswoman for the fair.

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Workaday frustrations were not to be found, however.

Good Clean Fun

After the tenants’ team scored a quick win over the landlords in their tug-of-war, for example, tenant organizer Joe Lacey hurried to give landlord Russ Flynn a good-natured ribbing.

“Last year, he brought some Dallas Cowboys with him, but this year I guess he ran out of football players,” said Lacey, laughing at the thought of the shaving-cream shower he had suffered because of the earlier loss. “I’ve been fighting with this damn guy for years--years! I love him.”

Earlier, across town in Chinatown, parking-race contestant Stan Koehler smiled contentedly as he waited patiently in a horn-honking traffic jam.

“These people don’t have the relaxed state of mind necessary to find a parking space,” he said.

Despite his patience, Koehler’s time of 53 minutes, 5 seconds was twice as long as the winning time of 25:50 posted by three-time champion John Colema, a sausage-delivery truck driver.

“You don’t stop the car--ever,” said Colema, describing his winning style. “If you come to a red light, turn right; you find out ahead of time where any construction is going to be--anywhere in the city--and avoid it.”

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As for the winner of the fog-calling contest, James Austin--well, he was keeping his championship secrets to himself.

It might have had something to do with the flashlight he taped to his head to imitate a lighthouse.

It might have been the inspiring prizes offered to the winners--locally brewed Fog Horn Ale, a can of pea soup, lunch at the swank Fog City Diner.

All he would say is that he’s not a native San Franciscan. “I’m originally from Hoboken,” he said with a grin, and then left.

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