State Fair

If we've learned one thing about Minnesota, it's that they are a people who love their fairs. The county fair was in-progress when we arrived. We had been warned that it's nearly impossible to schedule anything during "Fair Week," that everybody would ask us if we had a chance to make it over to the fair, and that traffic would be a nightmare (well, by the standards of a town of 26,000). And indeed, we've constantly been asked about the fair, attendance numbers at the parish took a dramatic dive during that weekend, and cars lined both sides of the street from the fairground to our house several blocks away.

And then the State Fair came. The State Fair, on a low day, draws 100,000 visitors. On its peak day, it tops out around 250,000. And it runs for a week and a half. Imagine Athens, GA during the UGA/Tech Game. Then smash all of those people on to North Campus. And fill it with lots of cows, pigs, and deep fryers.

The Fair is everything you would expect from a still-largely agricultural state. There are pigs, cows, dairy goats, poultry, horses, and virtually every type of animal you could ever expect. There's even a "Miracle of Birth" exhibit full of newborn animals. I don't mean a few months old. I mean, "Oh, look. That lamb is covered in placenta."

It's a great reminder that we're city folks through and through.

And, being an agricultural state, there was farm equipment everywhere. Need a new combine? Go check them out. Want to know what the Elk Breeder's Association is up to? Here's there booth. Just go ask.

We're apparently so far north that the US and Canadian colors are presented, and the anthem from both nations sung, at events:

Of course, since we're from Georgia, we didn't know any of the words past "O Canada, our home and native land." Something about a "true patriot's dream," I think.

Then there's the food. I ate an elk burger! I'd never had elk before!

There was an all-you-can-drink milk station, cheese samples, and something called "cheese curds," which are usually served deep fried. In short, not a great place for the lactose-intolerant.

Most importantly of all, though, is a little program that broadcasts from the State Fair every year: A Prairie Home Companion. For a kid who grew up listening to Garrison Keillor on AFN after chapel on Sundays, this was a dream come true.

The show was outstanding, there was a sing-along, and the Steep Canyon Rangers were among the guests. After just two weeks in Minnesota, the jokes made a lot more sense -- though Suzanne's mom didn't find the jokes about bears and wolves roaming the frozen city streets to be quite so funny. (And, to be honest, I've heard the joke isn't so far removed from reality.)

After two and a half hours of humor, music, and story-telling came the fireworks. It was a slice of Americana served alongside rhubarb pie.

Just as we were leaving the Grandstand, we heard it: the most Minnesotan thing ever said. "There must have been a show in there before the fireworks, then, eh?"