County Fair

County fair: (n) a small-time exhibition

There is a danger in trying to make everything look big.

If you succeed, the best comment you get is, “Well, that’s almost as good as the big one…”

If you fail, any number of snickers, snorts and boos may trickle in your direction because you had the audacity to contend that you could compete with the big boys and girls.

That’s why I like county fairs. They know they’re not state fairs.

They know they’re not Great America, Six Flags, or dear God, no way to even resemble Disney World.

They bring the essence of the local and showcase it the best they can. They make no apologies for having competitions for the top hog instead of holding a huge rodeo with country music stars.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

The booths are simple and often sponsored by the Women’s Auxiliary of the First Community Church, who have taken a buffet table, covered it in bunting and placed their finest brownies, fig squares and homemade oven mitts.

The entertainment willingly admits that it’s not professional and plays the instruments through a P.A. system borrowed from a guy in a nearby town who used to be a roadie long ago, for the Monkees.

The county fair is not so large that you can’t get around it in one night, and you can still get all the confections, candies and processed meats that are proudly displayed in the huge thoroughfares.

But I suppose the greatest thing about a county fair is that you’ll see a lot of people you know, some people that are relatives of people you know (which you acknowledge by their resemblance) and a few people you’re introduced to who have moved to the community and this is their very first county fair.

Come one, come all. It isn’t great…it’s just us.


Donate Button


Subscribe to Jonathan’s Weekly Podcast

Good News and Better News

 

Accompaniment

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Accompaniment: (n.) 1. a musical part that supports or partners a solo instrument, voice or group 2. something that is supplementary to or complements something else, typically food.
Every single week of my life I play in a two-part combo, where we have chosen to focus on my partner’s musical abilities so as to allow some laser-beam consideration for my writing. After all, it would be ridiculous to have two people sharing, with one of the pair appearing to be superfluous.
So even though I play a musical instrument on stage and must perform with equal proficiency as my partner, I find myself viewed as “mere accompaniment.” I honestly do not mind this. Matter of fact, I promoted the concept. I think it’s difficult for an audience to view two people equivalent in capability. We are human beings–we like to compare.
So likewise, unless you are willing to become the accompaniment to an endeavor, you will just be part of a great ego struggle over authority and notoriety–which normally ends up with NOBODY being noticed.
It’s a problem in our society. We are constantly creating new titles, new positions and new ways of communicating the importance of the occupations of those around us so that nobody has to be in the “accompaniment” profile.
There just are times that you lead the band and other times that you load in the equipment. Any band will tell you–they are only as good as their roadies, and any roadie will tell you that he or she does not have a job without the band.
Any singer would be painfully boring without musical accompaniment and any musician would be stuck trying to sell an instrumental CD without lyrics and a vocalist.
Sometimes you have to realize the value of accompaniment. Even in heaven this discussion must go on:  which is the greatest–the Father, Son or the Holy Ghost?
The thing about that particular dilemma, though, is that a long time ago the three of them decided … they are one.