Hey! That’s not county fair!

A few months ago, I vowed a trip to the county fair to get a fresh batch of pictures. As fate would have it, I completely forgot it existed while it was here. That’s a little disheartening, but I can surely show the pictures I collected a few years back. There’s always next year, too. It’s not like this is its last hurrah… or yeehaw, as the case may be.

When I moved back from Charlotte, NC almost four years ago, I was bitter. Shocking, I know. While I still have my moments of frustration, the house has provided enough distraction to avoid sitting in self-destruct mode for days on end. That’s progress I think.

In an acerbic mood, I took it upon myself to document all the instances I saw the Confederate flag here in Hooterville. The county fair was rife with them.

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Confederate Flag on faux mink.

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Window sticker selection.

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This space cliché not only likes the Confederate flag, but it likes to smoke pot while admiring it.

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It would be downright blasphemy if it weren’t sold as a belt buckle.

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There is a saying in marketing. “If the people want Cheetos, then they shall have orange fingers.” I can’t help but think this is a similar situation.

“Why, Nate,” I hear you say, “weren’t you just living in a Southern state?” To that I would say yes, however, it’s not the flag I’m concerned about. It’s the dim Yankees that display it on their possessions. Listen up, Ohioans. You were part of the Union. Ulysses S. Grant and William T. Sherman hailed from your state. To any Southerner with a shred of pride, you will always be a God Damn Yankee. They’re not going to be fast friends with you, and carpetbaggers are greeted with a weary eye. They do not want you! I know this first hand.

The other reason I went to the fair is to witness all of the “that’s probably not a great idea” moments.

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I love the smell of jingoism in the morning. It smells like “mission accomplished”!

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This was the walkway to all of the insanely disgusting fried food vendors. Want a whole block of fried cheese? We can do that.

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Say hello to “Buck,” the animatronic deer head. Its concept is like that of “Billy Bass,” but only to promote the virtues of this “mountain man” meat vendor. I don’t know… seems legit.

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Here we have the local Republican headquarters shilling for more votes. Dead center, we see young Republican feathers. I didn’t think Republicans would be the ones supporting tribal representation.

This is all part and parcel of why I left town in the first place. I’ve met many on my travels that tell me, “you’ll find this anywhere.” To that I say, “you can also find a way around it elsewhere.” It’s the truth, too. The area’s too small to circumvent an attitude of which I loathe to watch. I see it everyday, and wish for higher standards of behavior. I know I won’t get it, but that doesn’t stop me from trying.

At the end of the day, though, where else could you see something this majestic?

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I now have a strong urge to play Megadeth.

All pictures © 2013 by Corvidae in the Fields, all rights reserved

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9 thoughts on “Hey! That’s not county fair!

  1. Pretty weird, I have to say. I just keep thinking of “Deliverance” which is not a good place to be:)

  2. kerbey says:

    Unicorns are always a good idea. I can honestly say in all my years, I have never seen the pairing of the Hawaiian shirt with overalls. It’s the yin and yang of tropical with rural, stretched tautly over 300 lbs of walking trans fats.

  3. For the record, I am a life-long Southerner who likes Yankees. Heck, I even married one. 🙂 (And I do not like e confederate flag.)

    I can see the connection to Megadeth.

    • I’m sure you know exactly of the people of which I speak. They don’t try real hard to hide their feelings, but at least I knew where I stood with them. That’s always useful information.

      Unicorns always remind me of D&D, which always reminds me of the automotive wing at the high school, which always reminds me of Megadeth, because that’s what they liked to play when they worked on cars.

  4. Great article! I can tell that the words, “Jingoism in the morning…,” will run through my mind the next time I watch “Green Acres” and ponder the political leanings of the characters, particularly Mr. Hainey.

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