Column: Of friendship and the N.C. State Fair

Every October for the past 20 years, I have boarded a plane in New York City and come to visit the N.C. State Fair. Of the 8 million people in The Big Apple, I am certain I am the only one who has made the pilgrimage to Raleigh so faithfully.

Why? Because as the memories piled up, the fair has become a friend and part of our family. With its bizarre mix of Southern agriculture and country living, pinball lights and sounds, the raw pitch of the huckster, kiddie rides and grotesque food, the fair has taken a warm and comfy place in our lives. Everyone, especially Tar Heels, should make a friend of the fair. Here’s how we did it.

When this trip began, the fair was not the point. The real purpose was to visit Pat and Donna Stith, who now represent the Southern branch of the family. After I worked at The News & Observer for three years, we become close and visited each other so often that, as a child, my daughter thought Pat and Donna were related to us, but couldn’t remember how.

My first and central memory of the fair was walking into the Commercial and Education buildings with Pat and seeing a grizzled and depleted carnival barker (think Harry Dean Stanton) selling knives with a patter that may have come from Elmer Gantry. To create scarcity out of thin air, he offered a great deal for the first six wise consumers who understood the meaning of the word opportunity, “I might not sell six, but I won’t sell seven.” He also provided a pamphlet on using the knives as his personal gift. “I can’t sell these because of the copyright laws.” Of course it worked, I still use that knife.

Pat and I look for the “best in show” carnival barker every year. The products have changed. Gone are the choppers, knife sharpeners and shammy cloths, replaced by magic mops, steamers and gadgets that turn a pizza box into a speaker. The barkers are young, attractive and don’t have any of that whiskey smell, stubble or tobacco-stained charm. They seem like stand-up comedians looking for a break. The products work, though. I buy one every year and use them all. If they break, I bring them back next year and press for a replacement, which I usually get.

When the children were little, the animals and rides were the star: the elephant rides, the little kids rides and especially the pony rides. My son loved the first one he had so much that he rode it again right away. Now, the idea of two pony rides has become a symbol for getting everything you want.

We were reading lots of Dr. Seuss back then, and a cactus at the botanical exhibit reminded us of a page on which a character named Pat was about to sit on a cactus. “No, Pat, no, don’t sit on that,” read the caption. Every year, we get a photo of Pat Stith about to sit on the cactus. So far, we’ve warned him off.

But the fair also brought us deeper into the world of North Carolina, mostly through the Village of Yesteryear. Plaques from the now passed-on master of marquetry, Clyde Badger, can be found in my apartment and at my parent’s house. The profile of JFK is especially treasured. We have belts, pressed flowers, knitted tissue holders, tatted earnings, leaded glass ornaments. Every year a new craft appears. Every year, my collection gets richer.

There is a rhythm to our visits. After the Commercial and Education building, which has the quilts – the true masterpieces of the fair – and the cake decorating, we walk by the exhibit of the horribly crashed car in front of the Scott building. Inside, we get the milk and the peanuts, look at the amateur art, and of course more choice gadgets and odd, but edible, food. We will eat a blooming onion, corn on the cob, fresh pressed cider, fudge, the N.C. State ice cream, and the like, but never a deep-fried candy bar.

We see the big animals get high-speed judging at the Jim Graham building, and the hugest pumpkin in the state at the exposition center. Along the way, we always watch the Marines tempt young men to try their luck at pull ups. I got to 15 one year after a lot of practice. I never got a call from the recruiter.

Toward the end of the day we visit the gigantic Smokey Bear, who is always chatty, and smell the fresh cut wood at the sawmill. About this time we relax in front of the music, either at the Heritage stage or in the tents behind the Scott building where the cloggers rule. This crazy form of dancing, which seems to combine Irish step dance, tap dance, and square dancing, took a hold of us so completely we ended up taking a vacation to experience the Folkmoot in Asheville.

The layers have piled up on each other so high, that when Pat and I walk the fair alone, as we often do, we are walking back through 20 years of friendship.

Bobby Jones, the legendary golfer, said in his farewell address at St. Andrews that he felt his experiences at that primal golf course alone would have constituted a rich full life. I wouldn’t go so far with respect to the fair, but friendship has made the fair into something that it never could be without it. The fair to me and my family is so much more than just a collection of shallow spectacles and sometimes contrived examples of country living. The fair is truly part of our family.

I turned 55 this year, and Pat and Donna are into their 70s, although Pat is in denial about that having just completed a through-hike of the Appalachian Trail as a demonstration that is is really still under 40. Every year, I will visit Pat and Donna in October, and we will make our way through the rich tapestry that we have created around the fair. I hope that my family will join me as much as they can.

But someday Pat and Donna will both pass on. Then I will visit my friend the fair one more time. I will say goodbye to interwoven quilts of memory draped over the rickety, carnival reality, that has made my life so much richer. I know the fair is related to me, and I am grateful I can remember exactly how.

Dan Woods, who worked at The News & Observer in the 1990s, now leads Evolved Media, a content marketing agency for high-tech companies.

This story was originally published October 22, 2015 at 6:49 PM with the headline "Column: Of friendship and the N.C. State Fair."