In sociological terms a “public” is a place where a local society meets or hangs out. It’s where you catch up with friends, meet new people, relax, conduct business, develop friendships, or simply be.
In a sense these are usually “public spaces” but it doesn’t have to be publicly-owned spot. Back in the late 80s a “public” in the small town I grew around in Indiana might be the parking lot of a McDonald’s along McKinley or the USA Roller Rink or in the early 90s it would be cruising the mall, slow walking a Saturday night in hopes you might get invited to a party or be there when the fight happens, sipping on an Orange Julius or sneaking a peak into Victorias Secret.
Social media has brought about the erosion of publics. People don’t hang out in person quite like they used to because apps have taken the local public from the coffee shop to your pocket. But, as we’ve learned, a digital public can be dangerous… they can accidentally turn into echo chambers. But we all know enatelt that there’s nothing quite like sitting around and chewing the fat with people in real life.
In a small town like Mariposa the county fair is one of our main publics. It’s 4 days of pageantry, intrigue, and drama by which the social calendar of our 18,000 residents revolve. Whereas, in the Upper Midwest kids might get the opening day of deer season off from school, here you get the opening day of the fair off and if you don’t make it to school on Thursday the attendance office doesn’t seem to notice.
Everyone knows Saturday night is the derby and Sunday is the livestock auction right before the rodeo. Even if you don’t go to any of it you know the whole world around here revolves around these 4 days.
For kids, it’s “what are you showing this year?” Not “are you going to the fair?” It might only be 150 out of all the kids in the county but it sure feels like everyone.
If you’re a city or suburban dweller you might not even know things like 4-H or FFA still exist. But around here? They are the lifeblood that makes the county fair a public. These programs have more members than all the churches combined. Our town loves youth sports but even the sports teams know better than to mess with the fair.
I’m enjoying the fair. It’s the break I need at the end of a long, hot summer. It’s exhausting. But it also fills my tank. One full day left for me then back to harvesting on Monday for the week to come.
Fair is important. And we like participating in our small ways.
Jackson did much better this year than last. He’ll always be remembered in the rabbit group as the kid who showed his rabbit covered in blood because it ripped a toe nail out on the way into the ring.
But I hope the core memory he’ll have from this week is the improvement he made showing his goat. He was first out last year in both market and showmanship, a source of a year’s frustration and embarrassment as his friends saw him place last. This year he moved up a division and finished 4th out of 15 in showmanship and 3rd in his group for market goats with the goat we bred.
Tomorrow all attention will shift to the payoff, selling his goat to the highest bidder at the annual auction. It’s emotional for me to see the community rally and spend upwards of $500,000 on 160 fair project animals. And it’s especially emotional for me to see someone graciously overpay for a $300 goat to encourage my child’s interest in agriculture.
Zooming out the lens, this is why it’s so important to invest in your communities public. I don’t know what it is where you live. But it’s there for you to find. And your life will be enriched when you join in.
In Romeo it was Halloween and the Peach Festival. In Rolando it was the street fair and (RIP) the Boo Parade. Here? It’s the fair.
Truly, I don’t think anyone who lives here would have it any other way. Even if they avoid going.
Though, everyone should go to the derby once in their lives.
