Nothing Like a Fair to Replace Family Circus

Though we grew up in a rural suburb surrounded by farms, ranches and livestock, my brothers and I never went to a county fair when we were kids. My dad was too busy working and it never occurred to my mother to take us to one.

Mom, you see, was a first-generation American, whose parents were forced, on separate occasions but under similarly trying circumstances, to leave Russia just ahead of a pogrom. Her parents spent several harsh years in New York, just trying to survive, before meeting one another, marrying and heading west to California, where my mother was born in the late 1920s.

Once the family was settled in Southern California, my grandfather took responsibility for bringing his relatives, one by one as he could afford it, to this country.

It became the task of subsequent generations to keep track of and maintain connections with the growing number of aunts, uncles and cousins who ended up here.

By the time my generation arrived, we were surrounded by so many relatives that going to a county fair was a redundancy. Family gatherings were themselves like county fairs--or carnivals, depending on which relative you ask--with hoards of folks, deafening noise, massive quantities of food, fun and games.

Of course, we had no rides, with the exception of Uncle Sid, on whose stomach we’d bounce while he was trying to take a nap.

Several years ago, I went to my first fair, here in Ventura County. This most traditional of American events--with its carnival midway, livestock competitions and arts, crafts, food and floral exhibits--was a completely foreign experience for me, and a wonderful surprise.

In today’s section, Bill Locey provides the information on this fair’s musical offerings on pages 52 and 53.

This year’s fair sounds like it should be fun, and I’m considering inviting my Uncle Sid. I feel I owe it to him.